Happy New Year?
I don’t know about you, but I am struggling this year…..the all what? two weeks of it.
I feel laden. Heavy under the weight of what? Life? the family? the pile of washing? broken new year’s resolutions (erm…..pelvic floor exercises and learn one more swear word in French – the new swear word that I will scream when, after NOT doing my pelvic floor exercises, my womb slips out at the supermarket check out)? the incessant demands of SuperGit (previously known as Fatty)? the unfinished and not soon to be finished house(s)? the fact that the kids need to be fed decent food at what seems every minute of every waking hour (note:check their bums tonight for worms)? the irresponsibility of the Prodigal to the point that I have to insist he goes back into the bathroom each work morning with the instruction to wash his body with soap and not just throw water onto bare shoulders to ‘trick me’ into thinking he has had a shower – a ploy he has been using (and the Face) since he was about 11? In fact, I feel laden and heavy from being inside my own head. I’m boring myself with my constant (internal) moaning. Jesus. I wish I’d just SHUT UP!
Right, so a quick look at the past two weeks:
1.NYE – a nun, Super Dupont (the french superhero who can laser gonorrhea, carries his own wine and a baguette), a funkster, Elvis, Dracula and a cow, headed out for the night. We were met by a sheik and a lady dressed for a masked ball. Also present were a (poor) bunny girl (guy) and a rather knackered looking pirate. Mix these types up with a load of alcohol and you’ll likely to make a nice amount of FUN………until the dawn arrives and a looooooong, difficult day with children hangs-over (you see what i did there?) your achey head.
2.I made the best cake I’ve ever made. It was the complete opposite to my usual FAILS.
3. The visiting puppy jumped up and clawed away and ate half of my best cake that I ever made, 1 minute before her owners turned up to reclaim her. The bump on the dog’s head still remains unexplained. Fatty was mumbling about hitting the dog with a wooden sword…..perhaps…
4. Having a play room out of action for 10 days. This is bad. This means I have to sit down and entertain the FAtty all day every day.
5. Re-aquainting myself with driving a manual ickle car. First try resulted in me rolling back into the car behind as I couldnt get the blardey gear into first and the Prodigal getting out to push me forward again. There was a witness but we’ve warned him not to say a word……or else.
6. The prodigal unravelling on Sunday night and throughout Monday. He also unravelled my sense of humor, bottles of vodka, whiskey, cider and wine. I unravelled him yesterday evening when I decided that having a monster hangover was the BEST time for him to tackle his school filling system with Mummy…..at the table until around 9 p.m. This means the AA meeting is back on the agenda even if I don’t think he is an alcoholic. What he is, is a chippy, self obsessed teeanger…..interesting typo….teenager, who thinks the world owes him (more than he already has and he has a lot) who decided- nah, who took a conscious decision in fact, the press the f’ck it switch so that his parents got angry enough to send him back to England. We’ve seen this before. He WILL finish this course.
Life in the Village
So it’s all be quiet as I’ve hardly left the house. I’ve yet to find out if Gnasher managed to sell his house (remaining in it until his dies which, although he is 76, he is unlikely to do for another 20 years). I’ve been receiving glares from the Non-Arab woman after LF went to kick her dog (who is constantly barking and running over the street to attack our dog when it ran aggressively towards the Fatty). Still haven’t caught the dog who shits outside our door but give it time, give it time (actually that can be resolution number 3). Our nearest neighbour booked herself into hospital for the christmas holiday. Absolutely NOTHING wrong with her but she thinks there is. She did the same thing last year too. In fact, she is probably the one person who currently moans more than I do. There, that’s made me feel better.
FAtty’s moaning has reached new levels. Once I close this laptop, he’ll stop and walk off and do something else but whilst there is a chance to wind me up, he’ll do it.
Enjoy your days……….especially you, Dazzles. Sounds like you are having more than your fair share of the FUN CAKE of LIFE!