Children doing chores frees me up to drink more French Martinis


Name that Tune:  “And any moment could be magical, it could be this night, you’ve got an energy burning like I’ve never seen, bringing me to life” – Can’t Beat the Feeling, Kylie

 Movie Quote of the Day:     “if you screw up just this much, you’ll be flying a cargo plane full of rubber dog shit out of Hong Kong” – Top Gun 

 Just realized I forgot to print out Bman’s application form for ‘Total Wipeout’ while I was at work.


***pauses for laughter to subside from any readers who know the Bman in person.***


Televisual gold if ever it happens.  Watch this space…


***pauses while tries to unsuccessfully superimpose a recent photo of Bman onto a picture of the bouncy red balls from Total Wipeout*** Couldn’t do it so you will just have to use your imagination.


The childerbeast invited me to a wedding after tea.  I sat on the floor in the corner next to my Lateral Thigh Trainer so as not to obscure the view of the rows of other soft toys that were lined up on the sofa to watch the service.

      A’s toy dog Sandy got married to Jess the cat from Postman Pat, who I’m pretty sure is meant to be a male cat, so it was an interspecies, homosexual soft toy wedding. (We are very New Age at our house.)

 The groom wore a Tux and the bride was a vision in ivory – both dressed courtesy of The Bear Factory.  The ceremony was conducted to the background music of ‘Devil’s Haircut’ by Beck (best not to ask to be honest…) and then R jumped on the sofa shouting “Whoohoo it’s party time” and promptly fell off onto the laminate floor with a crack and laid there laughing like a drain for 5 minutes.  A then shouted “After tonight Jess will have a kitten in her belly” and that was that.  Nuptials over.   (Dude, if you’re reading – this is the future.  These are your bridesmaids.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you!)

 Presently they are both fighting over who gets to vacuum their bedroom and the ‘lawn’ (they mean the landing??!).  This is awesome!  I just need to show them how to use the iron and fire up the stove and my job here is done.  Domestic retirement beckons.

 I would insert a picture here of A’s cheek where she now has a mark from sticking the hoover nozzle onto her face ‘testing that it works’ … but she won’t let me take a photo.


 Spent (I say ‘spent’ but I mean ‘wasted’) about 2½ hours of my life yesterday searching ebay for a suitable dress to wear for my Night of the Living Dead Zombie Prom Queen outfit for Halloween. 

Just when I thought I was onto a winner I realized that what I had read as ‘corset dress zombie costume’ actually read ‘corset distressed – zombie costume’ with the tiny disclaimer of ‘skirt not included’ underneath the picture.  Luckily I didn’t win the item otherwise I would have been mightily pissed at myself for not having had my specatecs on. (or having a skirt!)

      I may have to do a turn of the charity shops for a suitable frock that I don’t mind getting stage blood on, when I am in Chester Y’s next month for my girls night out with the H’ster.   Hopefully this time around my bra will stay on the inside of my dress when I am dancing* (as ever… best not to ask…)

 Apparently it’s not allowed for children as young as 5 to do the ironing because it’s too dangerous – although at the moment she’d be more likely to be injured by standing too close to it and it tipping over, Aberfan style and crushing her as the pile is so high it’s blocking the light from the back window. So, I better front up myself and get on with it before it all needs washing again, or dusting, at the very least.

 Ciao Tutti. Xx

 * when I’m out clubbing obviously, not when I am going round the Charity shops.


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