Drawing on your stepchildren is fun.

The night before we went camping Chaos-man crept into the boys' room and carefully, amid fits of shaking silent laughter, me standing in the doorway, fists shoved into my mouth, drew large curly mustaches and goatee beards on each of his children with my eyeliner.

In the morning Bigmad woke up first, and appeared in our doorway sleepy and stretching, mustache still proudly sitting above his top lip. Keeping straight faces and trying not to meet each others eyes, we answered his questions about camping and our trip away. SmallMad woke up soon after and came bounding into our bedroom, stopping short when he saw his brother. "YOU'VE GOT A MUSTACHE!" he cried, pointing at his brother, who looked at him incredulously in return. "WHAT? SO HAVE YOU!" They both scrambled for the mirror and examined their faces with horror as we cracked up with helpless laughter.

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAD! YOU DRAWED ON US!". They were even more horrified when they found out it was girls make-up we used, and they've been plotting revenge ever since. I've told them we sleep with our eyes open, but I'm half-expecting a counterattack and have hidden all the permanent markers and highlighter pens just in case.

Easter in the sun.

The boys were a little worried that the Easter bunny wouldn't be able to find us at the campsite. They explained that he "flies through the air with his ears, carrying Easter eggs for all children." laughing we reassured them that their helicopter-eared bunny loves camping and would find them just fine.

On the Saturday night we had to ban any mention of the E-word due to Easter-egg mention overkill. When we tucked them up that night I told them to go to sleep quickly as the next day would come quicker.
"Yes and it'll be Easter and we'll have our Easter eggs" said SmallMad, correcting himself hastily "though we don't talk about it".

Easter day dawned and a quick scan of the tent by two sleepy boys revealed no Easter eggs. Puzzled, the children allowed themselves to be herded into the car to help their dad get some milk. When they were gone, the pajama-clad Easter bunny balanced 5 chocolate eggs in a small tree next to the tent, and sat back down to enjoy hercoffee in the morning sun. Not a chance. Wildlife likes Easter too and the lads in the tent next to us were treated to the sight of me dancing around in my night attire, throwing empty beer cans at over-interested crows and gulls.

Needless to say the returning children were overjoyed when I pointed out that the silly bunny had obviously aimed a little wide. Ignoring our warning not to get too used to chocolate for breakfast (after the great and terrible chocolate spread tantrums, we've not allowed the stuff across the doorstep when the boys are with us) and happily stuffing themselves brimful "right down into my legs", they commented that they loved holidays like this "like Christmas and birthdays where you get stuff". Mercenary, but honest!

Trepidation and tides.

This weekend I am going camping for the first time with the Mads. I am a little nervous as we've not as yet all gone away together, let alone all slept in the one small tent.

We've just put two overexcited little boys to bed with promises of sausage sandwiches, meeting some crabs, playing in the sea and sleeping in a tent. This weekend promises to be one of the wettest, most inclement weekends in a while and we've packed a lot of towels, a lot of savlon, and a little wine.

Wish us luck, and I'll update this on my return.

The Boys on Water.

Chaos man is sometimes compelled to make impulsive purchases. His latest, fully endorsed by me, is a canoe. At first I was a little nervous about getting in it, especially because our nearest water-body is the Birmingham-Worcester canal. I informed him that I thought canals were full of scum and dead dogs but he reassured me that canals were now nice and clean, and devoid of ex-canines.

After kitting out the boys in little life-jackets, complete with whistles which were fully and enthusiastically being tested until I pointed out they didn't yet need rescuing, we headed down to the canal.

Before we left I mentioned grumpily that the canal would probably be full of scum and dead dogs so they needed to be careful in the boat in case they fell in. SmallMad was very excited and wanted to take his water pistol to "SHOOT THE DEAD DOGS!"

We inflated our craft, and launched it into the surprisingly pleasant-looking canal. Chaos man had a little go, then we plonked BigMad in the front with him. Father and son, with synchronized paddling and much cheering from us watchers on the bank, headed upstream through glorious countryside, past floating branches, a football, and past a dead duck.

On second glance it was realised the dead duck had a tail.

"DEAD DOG!!!!" screamed SmallMad in glee as I looked pointedly at ChaosMan, but he was too busy trying to steer the boat past the corpse to notice. The Jack Russell floated soggily and dead-ly on.

We swapped seats and I took BigMad out for another go. Whilst we were busy trying not to hit the bank, an elderly couple with their small dog had come down to the opposite bank, perhaps to enjoy the view, perhaps to watch this scene of familial joy. Whichever, SmallMad saw the dog and pointed at it, screaming "Dog! It's going to be DEAD!"

I think he may have been taken out of context slightly as the couple rapidly left.

Buy a canoe. It's fun for all the family. Except the dog.