“Yer no fit to wear eh t-shurt wi meh Initials oan it” barked Poly Patsy Tantrum (the name has been changed to protect the guilty) as I recoiled in fear from her sudden verbal onslaught. According to the shadow cast by the quiff of her platinum hair it was 08:45 on a Saturday morning and YM, LP and I were engrossed in exercise. When I say LP and YM, I actually mean me. YM and LP took the opportunity to go for a long morning constitutional whilst Daddy played Russian Roulette with his cardiovascular system. If you are thinking of a career in Nursing please be aware that it does not come without consequence. Nursing brings with it a certain level of paranoia. Therefore a belated return to exercise after a few months of intensive parenting, combined with scoring half of LP’s breakfast 20 minutes before Bootcamp lead me to believe that I may have had Angina, well at least in my paranoid and over anxious mind. Clearly the Camp Commandant knew better as she forced me to do 16 more Burpies whilst I considered whom to bequeath my half set of EPNS cutlery, which I had liberated piece by piece from a hotel I worked in during the 80’s, to. Apparently there was a reason for the figure 16, although I considered it was most likely part of the Commandant’s satanic ritual and decided that it would be important to shield LP from her gaze.
Anyways… LP is a people person. She knows YM and I are mummy and daddy but she is happy to play ‘pass the parcel’ as long as we are near. Therefore Saturday morning saw LP surrounded by various people with their nicknames or initials emblazoned on the back of their T-Shirts. A fare few were positively resplendent in Lycra and, it should also be noted that some reeked of stale booze presumably after a hard session the night before. LP took this all in her stride and loved the attention given to her, gurgling at appropriate times as she displayed her Chucky teeth. The session had only just commenced and I was already starting to tire. YM and LP went off for a wee walk round the maximum security perimeter fence, whilst I struggled to remain conscious. Off in the distance, clearly attempting to run away, I could see one of my fellow hostages distinguished by the initials F.C on the back of a t-shirt. I feared I must have been near to passing out as I saw multiple K.M’s too. On closer inspection F.C was actually sprinting towards the multiple KM’s in the distance in an attempt to stop their imminent escape. Clearly F.C had succumbed to Stockholm syndrome and I pitied the poor Psychologist who would have to deal with that particular can of worms. I thought about running too, but I simply did not have the energy to do so. Poly didn’t really approve of running anyway as it was deemed to be slower than a sprint. If sprinting was not the order of the day, side stepping became her modus operandi, an impossible task as I had chosen to wear lycra which, when deployed in a pincer motion of the side step caused waves of pain as various items of my nether regions became entrapped, much to the amusement of Poly.
Poly was relentless. Her Platinum Quiff positively shook as she barked her commands. “Hud that Plank” Poly shouted as G.M struggled under the weight of the tree trunk. G.M wished he had decided not to take a break from his career as a wedding planner and attend Bootcamp this morning.
At this point I felt I was fading away. Two or so months of little exercise have rendered me a wheezing wreck. In the distance I could see YM and LP walking toward me. I quickly glanced round to check to see if Poly was scowling in my direction. I took the chance and looked toward LP and YM and waved. Suddenly I felt a wave of energy and a feeling of pride and completeness as my family walked towards me.
Gentle reader… That’s when ye ken.
You lot (You know who you are) have been part of all our lives for a wee while now and therefore are all part of the story. With my best Leonard Rossiter voice on “I wouldn’t be where I am today without you all”.