Sonshine is not just a ray of sonshine in my life. It transpires that he is also a vandal.
The Meerkat's mother came round for coffee this morning, resplendent in WHITE. How she keeps everything looking so clean and fresh is totally beyond me, she always looks so together and clean. I feel like Pigpen next to her!
Anyway, we were scoffing our way through the most DIVINE Jubilee Cupcakes that she'd brought round (should have taken a photo, I know, but the cakes were not so much eaten as inhaled....) when it was clear that she was struggling to tell me something.
Well, you can't start a sentence with 'I don't know whether I should tell you this but.....oh no, I promised not to say anything,' and think for a MOMENT that I'm not going to pin you to the carpet and threaten to dribble saliva in your face until you actually spill the beans!
Fortunately, she caved before I had to fling her to the carpet.
Brace yourself, reader.
It would seem that after Warhammer last night, when her husband went to pick up the boys, a neighbour to the club told her husband that OUR little darlings had been 'painting outside.'
Well, they often paint outside so that the glue and paint fumes don't turn them into Bez from the Happy Mondays. But further clarification was provided.
This time, they had taken their Warhammer paint and actually sprayed a wall.
With a giant penis.
|Evidence for the Prosecution: #1|
Tartarus, who was present (and also eating a cupcake) at the time of the revelation, sprang upright, coiled like a spring, his rising fury a thing to behold.
'It's alright,' the Meerkat's mother assured us, 'The Meerkat's father is on the case. He'll be round on Saturday morning with lots of thinners to pick up Sonshine and to get them to scrub it off the wall.'
Reader, the SHAME of it!
I've never so much as scribbled a name on a toilet wall, never mind taken a can of paint and sprayed a huge penis upon a wall, in public. Or in private.
Actually, now that I think about it, I do recall writing some deeply uncharitable things about an ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend in the lavvy cubicle of the student union. But she deserved it. And I found my own name on there too, so we were each giving as good as we got. And to be fair to us both, there was a LOT of other graffiti scribbled in there. A fascinating way to spend an hour - reading the walls of the union bar ladies loos.
But that is neither here nor there.
My 11 year old son not only grafitti-ed a wall, but he chose to do it with a massive DICK. We are incandescent. I am behind Tartarus 100%.
In fact, I am SO keen for Sonshine to understand the ramifications of his actions that I have arranged for the biggest, scariest policeman on the island (currently off his work with a bad ankle) to come round to the house, in uniform, to talk about what has happened. He has been primed to be in total Strathclyde Police serious mode. THAT should ensure that it doesn't happen again. There will be tears. Probably mine.
oh the SHAME, the SHAME....
On a brighter note, Nibbles is still alive. But one of the goldfish (Adolf, we think) has died. He has been buried with due pomp and ceremony in a tuna can. Which was strangely appropriate, don't you think?
Hope you all have a marvellous weekend and please, if you have any stories of your children's criminal past, please share - it will make me feel better.