(***Disclaimer – I was given a complimentary ticket to go visit the Watercress Line on a Thomas day out. All thoughts and actions are my own. If you’d like to know what it’s really like aka without the funny and more factual, then please see here. For a laugh, keep reading. Thank you.***)
It’s the night before their first nappy free trip out with The Second Child and The Unsung Mum is happily dicking around on Facebook and ignoring her children when an email pops up.
Crappers. The Unsung Mum has forgotten all about this posh trip she agreed to last month, during one of her “episodes” where she assumes because her kids haven’t fought for 2.5 seconds or pissed over her carpet for half an hour that they can handle a very middle-class day out.
“How the hell did you forget to tell me that?” asked a shocked Hub.
“Well let me see dear. Between my bollocks freelance career, a explosive two-year-old that wants to potty train but hates the sight of her own piss, a fly that scares The Eldest, so she can’t sleep for more than four hours a night, a damp problem in the newly decorated hallway, a preschool red letter I swore I paid, a dishwasher that hasn’t been emptied in two days and a million and one other things, I’m not really sure.” She finished while imagining hitting him over the head with the dominatrix Barbie she just trod on.
“Oh well, just email back and cancel. No biggy.”
No biggy? NO FUCKING BIGGY??
This is the one and properly only time The Unsung Mum had been invited to something this middle class and posh. No, they were going alright.
The Unsung Mum must not lose face, even if it is going to involve a child only seven days into potty training being able to hold the contents of her bladder for more than 3 whole seconds.
The Unsung Mum cannot visit the middle of middle-classness that is Winchester with a second child with a weaker bladder than the Radford Mum without proper supplies.
She sends The Hub out for anything he can find that will bribe his second child into submission.
At bedtime, all is right with the world and The Little Spratts go to bed lovely and quietly, giving The Unsung Mum and The Hub quality couple time together.
The next day the kids wake up and decide that today they hate trains.
The Eldest will only agree to go if she gets to wear lipstick and mascara and The Youngest point blank refuses to wear anything at all.
Fine. Let’s improvise.
On the way to the Watercress Line, The Hub thinks that taking a family selfie will show everyone what a happy middle class family they really are.
At the station, they bump into two guards who open train doors and smile, regardless of what you say.
On a side note: Did you know that the Watercress line started life in 1865 for transporting locally grown watercress to London and beyond? No?
Well, you do now!
Anyway, it’s always a pleasure to bump into people dressed up as characters. We managed to see the Fat Controller, some dude dressed as an old-fashioned train driver and a had a picture with a person in full on tails. (Apparently, that’s what the guards wore way back when.)
After having a trip on the over zealous Diesel train and The Unsung Mum agreeing to another teacup (free) ride and go on the free bouncy castle, she decided to drum some culture into her children and make them come with her on the steam train to Alton.
It’s always a pleasure going on family trips out.
The guard suggests a trip on Thomas, which is all fun and games until someone wants an almighty piss.
“Can’t you hold it?” The Unsung Mum hisses at The Youngest while smiling like Vernon Dursley.
“Need a poo. Now.”
Sharing dagger looks at each other while mentally debating which sad fool is going to take her, The Youngest decides to undress her bottom half, declaring that she now hates ladybird pants.
If receiving a physical dressing down from her youngest wasn’t enough, a good citizen of Winchester takes it on herself to congratulate The Unsung Mum on her award-winning parenting skills.
The Unsung Mum starts to get mad.
“Thank you for your opinions random posh lady. You think you’re so good at this parenting crap huh? Well fine, you probably are but you shouldn’t be putting other people down just because their kid shits on Thomas the Tank Engine then has a 20-minute tantrum over wearing pants. Giving in may be bad, and I may be raising the next gang leader of The Great British Train Robbery, but do you know what, at least she’ll be famous. So…there.”
For once, the good citizen of Winchester was lost for words.
And with that The Unsung Mum and her delinquent family swanned off towards the café, ready to spend a fiver on ice creams and other bad shit.