09/02/2020

Before we go ANY further I just want it ABSOLUTLY catagorically stated ON PAPER in actual ink that this was NOT MY FAULT. Despite what the kids say I.E. that it WAS my fault because I'M the one that FORCED them to have 'friends' over in the first place, BUT - and hear me out - how is it MY FAULT that THEY won't SOCIALISE?

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

...I suppose I should probably start at the beginning, as Beakley would say. Last week, when I picked Huey up from his J.W. session, I saw there was quite a few new kids there. They'd clealy had some sort of recruitment session or something. So I was scanning the room for my son when I saw him speaking to another boy, who looked about a year or two younger than him. They were speaking quite animatedly, but when Huey saw me he came straight over, giving the boy a quick wave as he left.

The boy waved back and went back to Morty, Ferdie and another girl I hadn't seen before.

"Who was that?" I asked, sounding deliberatly casual.

"His name's Alvin." Huey said.

"What, like the chipmunk?"

"Yeah, but he's a dog."

"And the girl he was with?"

"Er...I think her name's Millie? But I'm not sure. Why?" He looked up, and clearly I wasn't actualy being as casual as I thought I was being, cause he immediatly went. "Oh no. No, no, no! I DO NOT want to be friends with them!"

"You seemed pretty friendly." I said.

"Yeah!" Huey said, like I was stupid. "I was being nice to him cos he's new and he was asking me about the J.W.G. You know, what's in it and stuff!"

"So you have a commen intrest?" I asked, choosing to ignore his tone. [I.E. Being nice. Which my parents/Scrooge wouldn't have done. I'd have been in for one HELL of a lecture if I'd have tried that with them. But try explaining THAT to a nearly-13 year old.]

Anyway. Huey looked at me like I'd lost the plot and said. "No, that's NOT what I - oh, forget it." And went off into his own little world.

'Donald wouldn't have had this problem.' I thought, bitterly, as we walked home in absolute silence. 'Donald would know EXACTLY what to say.'

So when we got home we wearn't exactly painting a picture of a happy family. As a matter of fact - and I probabaly shouldn't be writing this - but we looked a little like that portrait of Mom, Uncle Scrooge and Aunt Matilda. It's clearly an official portrait, because none of them are smiling. I asked Scrooge once why they wearn't smiling and he protested. "Tha' was the fasion then!" Then treated me to a lecture on 19th centuary acceptable behavier, which I tuned out after the first 30 seconds, cos - who wouldn't?

Anyway - back to the 21st century - when we got home Huey headed up to his room without another word - which stung a bit - and I groaned out loud before slunking my way to the kitchen where Donald was currently in the middle of looking like death. Well, if death had massive bags under his eyes and went about clutching a cup of coffee like it was his life-line or something.

"What's up with you?" I asked.

"Headache." He groaned, running a wing across his forehead. "Bad night's sleep." Which as we both know translates into - Nightmares. Slightly concerning, from what Donald's been telling me he got therapy to help with those nightmares shortly after taking the boys on.

Now, it was stupid of me I know, but I didn't really LISTEN to what Donny said because I was so pre-occupied with Huey. Besides, we all get nightmares don't we? I couldn't have KNOWN...

But I'm digressing. Instrad of questioning my twin further I ranted about Huey and his relutance to make friends even when it's OBVIOUS that he has something in commen with the other kid, which is surely the first basis for friendship? To be fair I'm not sure, I havn't had many.

So then Donald started getting all deep and philosiphol on me, pointing out that we did EVERYTHING together all through elementary school, before seperating a little in middle school. Which was also where he met Mickey and Goofy. I didn't make any friends, I was to busy back-talking teachers, drawing on walls and generally being a pain to everyone around me. Now, if that happened now the school would try and get to the 'root of the problem' - which wouldn't have been difficult cos MY PARENTS DIED. But back then the school was like: 'get out.' So off I went.

But my school woes aside, Donald carried on with how we [read: He] met Minnie and Daisy in High School and made friends with THEM before finally making friends with Jose and Panchito in college.

So he gave me this deep talk and at the end of it I was just like: "Donald, would you just tell me what you mean and how this applies to Huey?"

"The boys will make friends in their own time." Donald said, patiently. "They're already making friends, they've got Webby and Violet. And Huey has Boyd. I wouldn't worry..."

At that precise moment Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby came into the room, looking very serious. Huey gave both his brothers a slightly worried look, to which they both nodded as if to say 'Get on with it!'

"We have decided." Huey began ,somewhat unsuredly. "That it would be...nice. To have people over...for the night."

Dewey cut in front of his brother [literally] and announced. "We want a sleepover with Alvin and Millie." Cue the puppy-dog eyes as they all looked at us hopefully.

"And when are you thinking this sleepover is going to happen?" Donald asked.

The kids looked at each other, had a silent conversation, then Dewey said. "This weekend?"

Me and Donald looked at each other, had our own silent conversation, then I said. "I'll talk to their parents and see."

So at the next J.W. meeting I looked around for Alvin and Millie's mother, found her, and asked if Alvin and Millie would like to join us for a sleepover that weekend [I.E., tomorow.]

"It's very short notice." She said, fussily.

"Mo-om!" Alvin pulled at her sleave. "I'm not doing anything tomorow night, neither's Millie. We can go!"

"I'd have to ask..." She said, brushing imagenary fluff from her [very posh] suit.

So she asked. And Millie's mom must have said yes, because Mrs Woofington turned up the next day at exactly the right time, holding onto Alvon's hand and Millie's shoulder like she was afriad to let them go or something.

"Am I alright to leave them?" She asked. Which confused me, cos what did she think we were going to say? 'Actually no, we've thought it over and 4's our limit. Bye!"

"Of course!" I said, beaming at the kids. Alvin was looking excited, which was good, but Millie - That Girl! - had a face like thunder. She literally looked like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

But we got the kids in - FINALLY managed to wave goodbye to Mrs Woofington, a dictionary definition of 'over-protective parent' if there ever was one - and then it was time for dinner. Which Scrooge announced - with an un-describabale amount of pride - was Haggis.

Louie retched. Both Alvin and Millie looked [understandably] nervous at this reaction, and Millie asked - in a trembling voice. "What IS Haggis?"

"Ground up animal parts." Louie said, ignoring mine, Donald and Scrooge's attempts to get him to shut up by miming threats at him. "It's rank."

"It's not TO bad." Huey, ever the peacemaker, said, poking at his plateful hesitently.

"I like it!" Webby said, eating enthusiastically.

So, after a shared look, Alvin and Millie each took a very small forkful.

"Not bad!" Alvin declared before tucking in.

Millie, on the other hand, retched and pushed her dish away with a drawn-out. "Eeeeeeewwwwwww!"

"I'll have it if you don't want it?" Alvin said, before snatching her plate away and tucking in.

Millie fidgeted and gave Mrs Beakley [who she'd clearly sussed as being the chef] a puppy-dog look. "Is there anything else, please?"

Mrs Beakley gave her a fond, maternal look and said. "I think we have some pizza lurking at the back of a cupboard somewhere..." She pushed her chair back, gave Scrooge a look which I inrerpreted as 'I TOLD you this would happen.' Which is a fair point, because Scrooge is the only duck in the world who would think that feeding children HAGGIS for a FIRST MEETING was a good idea.

Anyway. After dinner the kids went upstairs and did...who knows what for the next couple of hours, but it involved a lot of giggling, shrieking and banging around from upstairs.

It got so bad that Donald actually stormed upstairs, knocked on Louie's door [As the biggest, it was decided that the sleepover could take place in their] and yelled at them that it was now 10 o clock at night, we were all going to bed, and could they PLEASE for the love of Zeus keep it down!?

On his way to bed Donald popped into my room, mainly to tell me that he'd told the kids to keep it down.

"Good." I said, already slightly regretting the stupid idea in the first place. I mean, WHY did I think it was a good idea to have SIX kids, OVERNIGHT in the house!?

Donald groaned and ran a wing across his fore-head again.

"Do you need some tablets or something?" I asked, seeing this.

He shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine. Fine, just feel a bit...foggy. But I'm fine. Anyway, night Della." He smiled at me and I smiled back. "See you in the morning." And he gave me a little wave before going.

I grinned widely - it sounds a weird thing, but I like having people say good night to me now. It's amazing how much you miss the small things when you can't have them.

So, still smiling, I picked up my IPod and started listening to a book, blissfully unaware that within a couple of hours everything would have gone to Hades.