The kids are driving me completely bonkers. Four is getting so wild it's not funny. I swear he's going to steal the Bentley's keys and go joy-riding before he's five. Either that or go on a crime spree, presumably working his way through Kids Are Us (imaginative name that, eh?) and Toy Store and Kids Central, filtching teddy bears and a scooter.
I met a mother the other day who told me her five year old had suddenly become all sweetness and light when he turned the big-five, so I live in hope. We shall see. Talking of mothers...funny thing yesterday. I was chatting with this mother who bathes in Chanel Mademoiselle and has nails that should be licensed by some authority dealing in dangerous weapons, who said, "We should get together sometime soon and talk some more."
"Good idea," I said, "the kids can play together." She looked at me and said, "I was thinking when they're all in pre-school. My husband is away on business at the moment. In fact, he's always away on business." Oh dear. I don't think I'll be taking her up on the offer - any offer - because anyone who dresses like she does and looks at you that way is big trouble. You can see that from even further away than her gleaming gold Mercedes which is often seen cruising around the neighbourhood. If it was a van you'd think it was dodgy blokes looking for something to grab.
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for excitement. But there's only so much a man can handle.
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