So we somewhat stupidly and naively decided to drive 5 hours up the coast for the weekend.
Surprisingly, the drive went well. No FFS.
We arrived at dinner time, and while #1Hubby hunted and gathered (went in search of the nearest takeaway) and I kept the home fires burning (tried to find ice for my wine), The Feral Threesome tore shit up, yo. FFS!? Three couples strolled past in the time it took me to put the outdoor setting on the patio. All of them looked over in horror and picked up the pace to an impressive power walk once they heard the noise emanating from our cabin. FFS!? The cabin sat on stilts and so every toddler footstep sounded like a clap of thunder. FFS!?
A clap of thunder combined with high pitched screaming (Mstr3) and guttural, primal animal like snarling (Miss3). FFS!? There were 10 beds in our cabin. I let the kids go nuts and decide if they were sleeping in their own rooms, together, in which beds - the works. Mostly because I was too buggered to organize or referee, and I really needed to sit down and neck a bottle of wine. 8pm and the herd of elephants running from one end of the cabin to the other continued. FFS!? 9pm and more of the same, but I was onto my second bottle of wine so it was all slightly muffled and a little bit fuzzy, and therefore more bearable and only worthy of a mini-FFS!?
Still armed and ready to spray. Miss7 stirred...and bugger me if it wasn't the bastard top bunk bed springs letting out the tortured screaming. FFS!?
TEN BLOODY BEDS IN THE PLACE, AND SHE CHOOSES THE EMO SCREAMER. FFS!? They all managed to sleep through it, so I went to bed and shoved tampons in my ears to muffle the sound. For real. The Feral Threesome normally wake around 7:30am, later if they've had a big night. So I was figuring I'd get at least 2 hours, maybe 3, now that I was positive someone wasn't being tortured in my cabin. Can you guess what time they got up? 5 fucking 18am. Right as I was finally drifting off. FFS!?