Hey! I'm back, thanks to MelodySouth65, Sponge Guy, Steampunk Wilson, KaliAnn + TwiDash FTW .Harmony Dash for reviewing the last chapter and to everyone who has favourited and followed so far.

As I said I've not been actually watching Ducktales, but one thing I am curious about is how they're portraying other people's reactions to Della. I mean, does anyone even know she's the boys mother? Is there a story? What do people think about her suddenly turning up?

So it was with that it mind that this chapter was written.

Warning: A bit of language.

See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's crack on:

21/09/2019

Whoo-ooh-ooh, what a day diary! So I thought I'd try bonding again, and seeing as it's a Saturday I decided, in my infinite wisdom, it might be a good idea to take the boys [and Webby considering the fuss Aunt Beakley made last time] out somewhere for a couple of hours. So the first thing to do was to decide where to take them, which necessitated another conversation with Aunt Beakley, who I'm getting the feeling thinks I'm an idiot.

The conversation went like this:

[She's hoovering in the lounge. I stick my head round the door]

Me [With my bestest, sweetest grin]: Oh, Auntie Beakley…?

Her: [Turning the hoover off and Looking at me like I've crawled out from under a stone] Yes, Della?

Me: I doon't suppose you know anywhere I can take the boys for a couple of hours do you?

Beakley: Well, there's always the library…

Well, I assume that was her dry, English wit but just in case it wasn't I said:

Me: I meant somewhere they'd actually enjoy, not die of boredom.

Her: [In a tone that indicates I REALLY should know this after FIVE WEEKS] Huey enjoys the library. He says they have an interesting non-fiction range. However, if that's unsuitable, I suggest Funsey's.

Me: Oh, right. What's Funsey's?

So turns out 'Funsey's' is this place that basically, like, a restaurant for kids. Complete with ball pit. A ball pit! Man what I would have given for this kind of entertainment back when I was a kid. The closest thing me and Donald got to a 'ball pit' was a bat and ball set. And that was quickly confiscated after I broke one of the green glass windows. Which actually wasn't my fault as Donald was, you know, meant to CATCH THE BLOODY BALL! But I digress…

So the next thing I did was tell the boys we were going, and they all cheered which made me feel great. But I noticed Webby [who was in the room] looked a little downcast and – realising how it probably made her feel, us doing all these SUPER AMAZING things without her – said: "And Webby can come to, of course." Which instantly brought a smile to her little face and gave me a warm glowy feeling inside.

So I told Beakley I was taking her with me – mainly to avoid her hunting me down if she think I've kidnapped her grand-daughter – and got a beam in return, which intensified the glowy feeling – then I stopped by Scrooges office, you know, as a matter of courtesy.

Me: [Popping my head round the door] Hey, Uncle Scrooge! JustlettingyouknowI'mtakingtheboysandWebbyouttoFunsey'sfordinner – bye!

Scrooge: Wait a minute! What?

I swear to god the guys going deaf.

Me: I'm taking the boys and Webby to Funsey's for dinner.

Scrooge: [Leaning back in his chair, taking his glasses off and cleaning them] First, Della, I'm taking it you mean 'Funso?'

Dammit Beakley.

Me: Yes, I mean Funso. Now, gotta go, the boys-

Dear Uncle Scrooge: -Can wait. What aboot Money?

A beat. Then:

Me: Money?

Scrooge: [Putting his glasses back on and giving me, what I can only describe as a 'withering glance] Yes, Della, money. What did you think you were going to do? Walk into the restaurant and just get free food?

Okay, when he puts it like that I sound like a complete and utter bampot.

Me: [Beginning to panic] Well, what am I gonna do!? I said I'd take them out! I can't let them dow-

Scrooge: Ah, steady on lass. Here.

Then, stand by diary. He actually went into his wallet and gave me some money! I know – I nearly fainted. I can't remember the last time this happened, I though, I've got to add this to the list of things to tell Donald when I – he sorry - gets back.

So I was floating on cloud nine when I went down to get the boys – and Webby – when I bumped into Beakley. Who noticed I had the money and asked what I wanted to for. When I explained what had happened to her, she gave a loud laugh and explained – through her chortles – that Scrooge is a LITTLE bit behind the times and the ten dollars he'd given me would NOT be enough to feed myself and four kids and ALSO pay for them to go in the ball pit, which they apparently would consider essential.

Sounds like Beakley's done this once or twice before.

So she went into HER purse and proceeded to literally hand me over 50 quid.

50 QUID!

Then I felt extremely guilty because I KNOW Uncle Scrooge can't be paying he that much, if anything, but she waved it off and told me as long as Webby came back happy she was happy.

Which sounds nice and grand-motherly, but it does undermine the nice and grand-motherly tone when you can definitely hear a distinct THREAT under the sentence. I'll be honest I got the impression that if Webby got even a SCRATCH on her they'll be hell to pay.

So I mentioned that because I wanted to give a picture of the immense STRAIN I was feeling when I finally got the kids to Funso's. And once I paid for them to get in the place they immediately started whooping and cheering and ran to the ball pit.

I must admit that ticked me off something rotten. I'd just bloody paid for these kids – one of them who's not even technically mine – to go into a restaurant and not one of them can even spend two minutes with me while I order the food? I know they're still probably pissed with me for, you know, abandoning them for ten years, but STILL.

So there I was muttering words under my breath that darling doting mummies definitely shouldn't say, when the women behind the desk – so the one serving me – goes:

Bitchy Women: So…are those your kids?

Me: [A bit taken back, cos it's REALLY none of her business] Yes they are. Well, the girl isn't, but the boys are.

BW: [Pouring the coffee] …Don't they usually come in with their dad?

Well! Excuse me, I know I've been away ten years and times have clearly changed but from WHEN was it acceptable for staff to question customers about their life habits!?

Me: He's not their dad actually. [Her eyebrows shoot up into her hair, and I instantly realise how that sounds]

Her: Well-!

Me: [mortified] He's my brother!

Her: What!?

Me: [Digging a seriously deep hole] No! Agh - He's been looking after them – look, can I have my freakin' coffee please!?

Her: We don't tolerate bad language in here!

Me: Oh, so I can't swear but you can interrogate me about my life choices!?

Her: I wasn't interro-

Me: [Half-hysterical with literally half the shop staring at me] Yes you were! I'm sorry I haven't been perfect, but who's bloody perfect anyway! I'M TRYING HERE!

Cue a voice from behind me:

Huey: Mom?

I turn round – the boys and Webby are all there, the boys are looking mortified and Webby's just staring at the floor.

Huey: What-

Dewey: -Are you-

Louie: -Doing!?

Me: [Feeling like I'm about to burst into tears] We're leaving! C'mon!

BW: -Your coffee!

Me: STUFF THE COFFEE! Boys, Webby, we're going – now!

Okay, so maybe in hindsight I was a little hysterical. We literally didn't talk all the way home. It was ridiculous. And when we went back I had to hand back the money to Scrooge and Beakley respectively and naturally they both asked what had happened, but I brushed them off and refused to talk about it.

So I went to my room and – after screaming into my pillow for a little bit – automatically reached for my phone, before remembering that I can't rant to Donald because HE'S ON A FREAKING WORLD CRUISE!

Ugh. I'm exhausted. That stupid Barista women…she'd got me thinking about a lot of stuff I'd rather not think about.

UGH. I hate my life.