Stupid Scouse Dealer

Nothing out of the ordinary at all happened to me today, other than getting up early to make sure Chug had his ritalin while Jeff went to work and staying up to look after the baby.

While nothing was happening to me, though, Elise was having a very interesting day. "Interesting", in this context, being somewhat similar to the Chinese curse "May you always live in interesting times".

Her house was raided by the police. They searched everywhere and Dylan was very excited, so I'm told; he even asked them to search him and his little bike and they complied. (They found on him a pound, which was probably his reward for just being so adorable).

Stav was taken down to the nick. Elise was worrying her head off. I think she might have been glad to be rid of him (or so I'd hope) but probably unhappy about the prospect of any repercussions. She came here, at least for a while, with young Bink. Actually I didn't know any of this before she arrived; when Bink walked into my room looking for chocolates (I've been going through it lately) I was surprised to see him. I took him down stairs with the promise that I'd take him out to get chocolate (or "lock-lock", as he calls it). He picked out a box of Cadbury Fingers and also wanted a foam sword that was similar to one he already owned and, I suspect, long since thrown away because he used it to chew when he was teething whenever we weren't looking. (It was cheap enough so I figured; what the hell). Tony didn't seem to think I should have done, but Tony complains about absolutely everything.

Apparently all the police found was one rather tiny little spliff and an amount of hash that could only be measured with the most sensitive of scales (not something that one would find in a kitchen). He was released without charge or caution. He found the whole thing hilarious, which annoyed everybody else as Elise was sick with worry and Mum and Tony, while probably not concerned as to what happened to Stav, were sick with worry regarding Elise and their children.

I reasoned that, having gone to the trouble of raiding a house that the police just couldn't see the point of charging, or even cautioning Stavross for possession of such minuscule amounts when they could just put the whole thing down to misinformation. It was suggested that Stav had probably grassed on somebody, which seems far more plausible.

Poor Little Bugger

I had Bink, last night (Tuesday night). The poor little bugger has at least one infected tooth (Tony argued, as Tony always must, that it wasn't infected; it was rotten. Which I suppose is true but I imagine that the second reason we don't want our teeth to rot is because rots cause infections. The first reason is because we don't want to form cavities to form which will expose our nerves). We found out that it was a rotten tooth today after an emergency dental appointment.

Elise spent most of yesterday here with both of her children until she finally decided she would rather be somewhere else, though we still had both children at this point. The reason for this, due to the pain in his teeth, Bink has been highly sensitive, today. I'm not saying that he's not normally sensitive; the boy is set to become one of the finest people I know if we play our cards right, but today he burst into tears at the smallest of things; particularly the word "no" and especially when phrased as "No!"

Apparently Stav has also been ranting about the cause of his son's oral decay; he claims it's the fact that he's been given milk in the night when he's supposed to have only water. (Elise has claimed that he was going back to sleep readily with water and she wouldn't even have to refill it because Bink would only sip it and go back to sleep whereas he would generally drain the bottle of milk). Elise blames us for this because, apparently, it's only since the last time he slept here that he's been refusing to have water in the night. I wasn't in the room to respond to this, I was in another room and she was being deliberately loud, possibly to get a rise out of me. I didn't feel like coming in because it's hard for me to know whether it's acceptable to but into her conversations with getting told off (by her) for it. Apparently the fact that I have Aspergers doesn't concern her at all. (But then, whatever does?)

In anycase, both mum and Elise have referred to Stav's behaviour as 'bullying' which I assume means that Stav has been losing his temper with Bink when he start's crying

This accusation of theirs (concerning the milk) was the cause of much private snickering between other members of the family over the course of the day as this theory because, while it was true that Bink completely refused the water I gave him and he would only accept milk, when last I had him, I have never heard of anybody who thought that milk might cause tooth decay. But then Stav is a Scouse ("ˈskaʊs"), a notoriously stupid breed and Elise is just particularly stupid anyway. (I don't know if I ever made this comment previously in this blog but as I can't be bothered to check I'll say it anyway; during both of her pregnancies Elise I would frequently mention that her offspring would be born smarter than her parents combined).

He kept waking up in floods of tears, during the night. I took him down to give him some calpol and bonjela for the pain once or twice. At one point he was crying so for so long, no matter what I tried, that Dimebar came in and complained, so this lead to the second time I took him down for painkillers.

At one point when I got him back to sleep I got up to go back to watching the cartoon ("Death Note") I had downloaded to my PC, however Bink wasn't properly asleep yet and demanded I stayed. I explained to the distressed 2 year old that I was only going to the desk and he asked if he could come with me, which I allowed.

He sat on my lap and watched it, though he complained of some discomfort (and that he might fall off at any time, even though I assured him that I wouldn't let that happen) but somehow I don't think he was really into it; it's pretty much intended for adults but then he's never really into the programmes on the TV much anyway (though he will often dance to music if the song is upbeat enough). Eventually he cuddled up to me and I decided to put him to bed. Once I had put him to bed it was clear that he wasn't going to let me go this time either so I just stayed with him and went to sleep.

He woke up at about 10am this morning. I took him downstairs and called Tony, asking if he could come as soon as possible; explaining how Bink had been up all night, Crying. And Tony can't say no to Bink, so he was up pretty quickly and I went back to bed until sometime between 3 and 4pm.

Apparently Bink needs to have 4 teeth removed. When you look in his mouth only one has had any particularly obvious

Nothing interesting happened since then except for RocknRolla, the latest Guy Ritchie film which I had wanted to see last summer (but nobody wanted to go with me and I don't particularly like going to the cinema alone). It was quite late when Dimebar suggested we watch this, something I didn't question because I assumed he knew how late it was. About half way through the film, when he was about to go for a cigarette, he checked the time and it was after 1am and he said he couldn't watch the rest but told me he wouldn't mind if I did so without him, something I wouldn't normally do but I made an exception with this case as it was something I had wanted to see for a while.

There was something missing from the film, though. I never really noticed before but I think the other Ritchie movies I've seen must have had a certain level of complexity to them because this one seemed to lack it. It was still highly enjoyable, though.