The weekend is not going as planned. I have inherited many people's children while noting one set of parents boasting happily that the stars have aligned and all their children are out of the house at various sleepovers. Oh yes, you would boast wouldn't you as I have had one of your children for over 24 hours and yet have NOT sold him for profit on ebay but instead fed him...a lot.

Where 13-year-old boys put their food I have no idea.

Oh wait, yes I do, in the bathroom which we may as well torch because there is no saving it now.

I have just kicked three of them out of our house, reminding them of their real parents' names, and adding that I refuse to feed them anything more. Well except for the just made banana/chocolate chip cupcakes because I've obviously lost my mind.

Satchel kindly walked two of his friends to McDonald's because clearing out our fridge didn't quite do it for them - there must have been a small space in their left foot crying out for nourishment - and had the audacity to phone and ask if he could bring the big galoot home for a sleepover. What? Are you insane? He's the one that scares me most! I'm amazed that Jakob didn't get mistaken for a snack and come to think of it, I haven't seen the cats in ages.

So no, he's not coming home with you. And if that wasn't clear...NO WAY IN HELL. Okay? Because I'm already trying to get creative with the crumbs on the floor to create a balanced meal for dinner and I'm sure he would fight me, and win, over the pizza crust I'm eyeing under the chair.