Monday, 1 September 2008
Give me a moment of your precious time.
I want to tell you a secret.
You won’t have to wait long,
I won’t keep you in suspense.
I know, I see, I observe your breathing.
There isn’t much time to let it out
What I’ve never told before.
It won’t be a secret for long but you’ll never tell, I know.
Look closely can you see me?
Listen carefully can you hear me?
Don’t go yet I haven’t told you what I want to say,
But once I do I fear you’ll go.
Do you want to hear it?
I guess it’s not important but I need to tell you.
I love you.
I’ve only told you once then I watch you fade away
I hold you in my heart, even though you broke it
I hear you in my head.
I see you in my dreams.
Do you watch me?
Can you see me?
Never again to speak, never again to touch.
Do you remember?
I told you a secret.
My Mum died when I was 23 and I never told her I loved her until she was dying, in fact she was unconscious when I said it so I never knew if she heard me or not. I still can't believe it til this day that she is gone.
You give me your heart and I’ll hold it in my hand,
You give me your soul and I’ll take it to another land.
I’ll give you my smile for you to remember,
I’ll give you my kiss so warm and so tender.
I’ll take away you pain and throw it out to sea,
I’ll take away your loneliness because now you’re next to me.
If only in my sleep can I hold you in?
Then I shall stay asleep forever.
Apart again we shall be, never.
Tell me when it’s time.
For then I’ll know that you are mine.
Saturday, 30 August 2008
Do we go mad and drink and be merry as much as we want. Do we enjoy our food so much we become porkers and get heart disease where life would be too short! Then comes the battle of the bulge and the constant dieting and feeling like a failure and being pissed off coz everyone else is eating and I can't.
We want that thing in the shop so badly but it's really expensive but bugger it pay day is only 2 weeks away and you really really want it. Then your credit card bill comes and you realise that your pay packet won't stretch so far and that brings money worries.
For years I lived like everyday was my last, especially since my Mum died when I was 23 at the tender age of 44 and I wanted to get the most out of life as I could, but to my detriment. I went mental and did things I probably wouldn't have done had I not lost her. Or maybe I would have? Who knows. I'll never know.
But it was like a red rag to a bull. My mates probably went a bit mad too, one in particular I know for a fact went bonkers. But I did things I'm not proud of and I cringe about now when I think about it but I think that's also probably part of growing up. But even in recent years I think lets do things now before it's too late. I rush head long into things and don't think about the consequences or I think sod it and do it anyway!!
Maybe that's just me and nothing to do with 'life's too short'???
One thing I do know is I do use it as an excuse too many times and I shouldn't really because I should be more responsible!! If I perhaps did act more realistically I could still enjoy myself and have a great time (and not suffer the hang overs too much!) perhaps then I wouldn't need to use the excuse 'lifes too short' anyway and my waist would be slimmer and my bank balance healthier and maybe Heath would still be alive :-(
Thursday, 28 August 2008
I work a job that I am fortunate enough to have the time off to walk my child to school and back but it does mean I miss out on valuable sleep but that's the price I pay in order to be there for my child. I'm fortunate enough to have a job that pays quite well but what if it was only minimal wage? I guess I could still do it but I wouldn't have too much money and I'm the bread winner as well at times so for the hours I work I am fortunate enough to bring in fair amounts.
I'm not fortunate enough that my husband doesn't earn enough for me to stay at home and do what I like but think I may well go mad (madder) than if I didn't work. Working affords me contact with colleagues and have a chat and care for people. I think if I didn't go to work I wouldn't have that social contact. That would be weird as I'm a very social person.
I have been out of work before I became a nurse so I know what it is like to be looking and turned down time after time and then work for a pittance. One job I had didn't even cover the cost of petrol to get there and back. But I dare not work as mum would have gone mad!!
I was brought up to have a work ethic so why haven't these people in this country also? The majority of the UK was working class a few years ago but even the 'lower' classes worked menial jobs. If they didn't their family went hungry. But we don't have to worry about that now. We only have to worry about the fact they are going to become fat coz they've been brought up on iceland food and sugar while they're parents use their 'benefits' to buy fags and beer because they need they to help with the 'stress'.
These people drive me mad they are the ones that can work and just can't be arsed. They plead 'depression' or 'back pain'. When the people who really are suffering from those conditions are genuine it gives them a bad name. It's incredibly hard to get permenant benefits for having long term conditions so how on earth do these 'fakers' pull it off? Maybe they are good liers and don't feel guilty about lying. But how can they live with themselves?
These people are probably from the same mould as the people who don't wear seatbelts!!!
Obesity is another reason some people can't work these days. They blame their knees or their backs for the problem. Some of them ride round in those motorized scooters. And continue to do nothing about their 'problem' but perpetuate it. His nbs said yesterday that he didn't remember seeing so many fat people about. At school obese kids were in the minority and now they seem to be in the majority.
It also seems as a nurse that people won't look after themselves but wait 'til things go wrong before people will do something about it or they expect the NHS to pick up the pieces and mend them only for them to go out and carry on with their lives as they have done before and change nothing. Maybe people have always been like this. I just haven't noticed it?
I saw a programme where parents were told 'your child is fat' and they protested at the horror and 'how dare you say that' but the softly softly approach does not work as the parents themselves confirmed. They had been to several 'specialists' and told different things about their childs weight problem when in actual fact it is the fact that the child eats shite and their parents over feed them and they don't do any exercise and give in to them when they pester for shite food all the time. When I was a kid we would get a ten pee mix on a friday at grannys and a packet of crisps if we were lucky. We were never allowed lemonade (magic water) or even matey (because it was too expensive!) but my daughter has her own cupboard at my grans and it overflows with cakes/biscuits etc. I know that's what grannies are for but apart from the fact it makes her bonkers she won't then eat properly and it causes such a nightmare.
I must admit I used to be skinny and am sadly not any more but I'm trying to do something about it because I need to practice what I preach and it is hard. Food is accessible and it's not like a alcoholic who can avoid bars and pubs or a smoker who avoids other smokers. People eat all the time and if we go out for the day and eat out I bloody well refuse to pay 6 or 7 quid for a bloody salad!!!!
I understand why people use drink and drugs to relieve pain/depression/emotional anguish but surely as an adult the consequences are known so therefore why do it? Why smoke in front of your kids when you know what it can do to them? I heard one women say on the radio that no-one has the right to tell her where and when and in front of who she could smoke but at last non-smokers have some rights. It's much nicer to go in a pub and not come out stinking. Smokers have had the upper hand for a long time why can't non smokers have it? That's another debate.
I am self righteous I know but I'm not perfect. I will always do as I say. I will try my best and work hard and I have good morals and manners. Does that make me a bad person? Does it make me a bad person that I don't want my daughter brought up in an area where parents shout and swear at each other when the kids fall out and the kids don't get disciplined for bad behaviour, where the kids smoke and spit and swear (and even shag) before they are 12 and that it's ok to live off the state if you want?
Britain used to be poor but we never had such lazy buggers and bad manners as we do now. The country and the people don't owe these people a life, a living or or indeed anything. These people owe the country and the rest of the tax payers something, a contribution however small. Sadly the waster Mick Philpot comes from Derby and I see him in his NEW minibus everyday taking his kids to school (not his local one I might add oh no he uses his petrol to drive them to a school near us) this guy does not work and has about 18 kids, how the bloody hell does he afford a new minibus???
I cannot bear these types of people and I hope something (like alien invasion giving them a lobotomy) will happen in the near future before this country really does go to the dogs.
Wednesday, 27 August 2008
With regard to anttering leading to trouble, one particular night we were being a bit raucous and naughty and one of the crew wasn't best pleased with how we were acting or in particular what i was saying. So 2 weeks later I was told by this person that she wasn't too impressed with me and that I was very unprofessional. Fair enough each to their own. But what I was wondering was when did this person decide to have a word? After 2 weeks thinking about it, was it eating her up at home? was it really that important that it needed mentioning? Do most people go home after a shift and stew on something that has been said? I know I do. And usually it means nothing and we go home or away from that person or event and stew over it and blow it out of proportion and make it all seem a whole lot worse that it was in the first place and make life harder for ourselves. I don't mean to belittle the person who thought I was in the wrong but maybe it wasn't as bad as they originally thought it was. Maybe half the time we should just let things go? otherwise our feelings and what we say just makes things/relations worse????
Why then do some people have the ability not to do that? Some people can just let it ride out and nothing bothers them or is it that they don't experience things that bother them? Not really sure. As it happens on this particular incidence it was suggested I should know better (true) and perhaps I wasn't being a very good influence to a particular member of staff, as she was reasonably new to the unit. How not true is that (you know who you are!!) and she's a very naughty lady who doesn't need any encouragement to be naughty!!!!
I digress. One particular night not so long ago we were all sitting nattering. It wasn't particularly busy so we were catching up on paper work and going over a new computer system (and I learnt something new which was very handy) and one of the girls was doing something with her patient. We saw her on the side of the unit with no patients on in the dark riffling through the draws and we asked her what she was up to. She turned around and said she couldn't find 'a twatting spigot' well we just creased up. No-one made a move to help the poor girl we just couldn't help ourselves with laughter. 'Twatting' what an excellent word. It sounded so good coming from this particular girl as well. I'd heard it before of course as in 'twatting around' but not when used with an inanimate object.
Some nurses are naughty and indeed we don't need any encouragement to be naughty. But I think sometimes we can't take ourselves too seriously considering the job we do and the stuff we see. So I think some twatting about is the order of the day. Laughter is indeed the best medicine.
So i tear Hope away from her mates with the promise of a happy meal and after half an hour of trying to get out the door (Hope won't get changed, one of her friends can't find her top as they've been wearing Hopes play outfits and the other one can't find her shoes and is mad coz Hope says she won't call for her when she gets back so pushes Hope over and Hope starts crying.....) we finally get in the car for the 13 or so mile journey to the UPS depot. I have taken my driving license and bill but forgotten to take the tracking number so the bloke at the depot can't find it. I have visions of having to wait in another day or having to come back again and am not best pleased.
My hero at the depot does however find the offending package but i think i might string his nibs along a bit and when he rings me to see if his precious baby has been safely retrieved I say (without laughing) that they couldn't find it and I may have to come back as the parcel may be on the truck for redelivery etc etc and I'm stringing him along nicely when Hope pipes up. 'Mum what are you talking about? you've got the xbox already it's under your arm!'
Tuesday, 26 August 2008
I had a desire for chickens so we got some rescue chickens. In a suburban garden with very little room thats not a good idea, however the eggs were a bonus but having a stinking cess pit at the end of the garden wasn't fun and I felt a bit sorry for them being in inches of sludge so I let them out. Freedom. Hens like to scratch don't they? yep there goes the lawn.
One by one the rescued battery hens popped their clogs and so the chicken pen was redundant. Then mother (thats me) decides to get a couple of guinea pigs. Along comes spike and woolley. Cute little guinea pigs. They were in the house for a time but when they got big enough they went in the garden where the chickens used to be. The neighbours also said they could have their rabbit so I stupidly said yes. What trouble could a rabbit be?
Her name is or was sophie but we renamed her Primrose, how ironic. The fence around the pen is about 2 foot high if that. She kept jumping over it. So I extended it using trellis and netting. She gets under the netting and out. I've just spent about 10 or 15 quid on primroses to adorn the drab garden after winter (and yet another shite summer the year before)and the wee shite scoffs all the beautiful flowers. I'm gutted. Now you may think thats a bit harse to be gutted over some flowers but I wouldn't go the asda or wherever and spend 10-15 quid on cabages for the little furry friends to eat now would I? The most they would ever get is perhaps a cheapo cucumber or some greens if they are lucky.
There is also Hopes plastic wendy house in the pen and we had to shut the door as the rabbit was in there digging an escape to next door but then we found out it was jumping through the little holes in the doors so Bruce had to load the holes up with wood to stop it getting into the wendy house. What a bloody palava. The end of the garden looks like Alcatraz.
There is also a little sliding gate in the pen which I use to get in and out to clean out and stuff I put half an old fire guard leant up against the small sliding gate to stop the rabbit jumping over that. But it found a really small gap and proceeded to get through there too. I had had it with the wabbit. The final straw was when it ate a gladiolii I had planted as a bulb last year that my dad gave me and waited all year for it to bloom. It was nearly there and everyday I would check it's progress in anticipation of what colour it was going to be (I don't get out much). One morning the rabbit had escaped again and the gladiolii had been scoffed. That was it.
So I shipped it off to grans 150 or so foot garden. Loads of space, loads of long grass to hide in. You give a creature a bit of freedom and it just takes the piss eh? because this pesky rabbit wasn't content with my grans 150 foot garden oh no it wanted next doors 150 foot garden.
The son of the house catches it to protect it from the cat and gives it us back!!! So I take it back home again back to the pen. A few days later, in the pen, I see what looks like a bag full of hardcore dumped in there. I am confused? who in gods name put that there?
I ask his nibs if he knows anything about it and he doesn't so I start locking the gate thinking some chav has been in and dumped it, some considerate chav though because it's laid out all level not just in a pile!
Next time I'm in the pen cleaning the wretched creature out I found a hole behind the hutch with hardcore debris at the entrance so I have a gander into the hole which is only about 3 inches by 6 inches and the 2 foot long spade I'm using to clean out the hutch with I delve into the hole and it disappears and so does half my arm. I swing the spade side to side and it comes into contact with earth about 10 or so inches apart. The wee shite has been playing bunny 'the great escape' under the path!!
I used to be a devout veggie and animal activist but am thinking bunny pie might be quite nice!!
Monday, 25 August 2008
Coca cola is a good tonic for cleaning the guts. We used to use it on tubes that go into stomachs if they were blocked on the intensive care unit coz it dissolves the blockage! Imagine what it does to your guts? Whenever I've had bad guts on holiday in the past I have resorted to a glass or 2 of coke and it's helped. So we drank mostly coke whilst away. Didn't do anything for Hope's attention deficit but at least she wasn't having dodgy guts.
Bruce decided one night in his wisdom despite my warnings that the smoked salmon looked good. He wouldn't listen and he not only had one lot but 2! He wasn't drinking too much coke either so trouble was a foot.
The next morning even though I had my ear plugs in ( I always wear them or I may have to kill his nibs for breathing!) and I could not only hear but feel his guts rumbling in bed next to me. His eyelids flew open and he hopped out of bed with a look of terror. He trotted to the toilet like a man with a million pound note between his bum cheeks and 20 minutes later he emerged 10 lbs lighter. Unfortunately the room didn't have an extractor fan in the loo so the smell came with him!!
2 seconds later he headed back in the loo and stayed there for a further half an hour. Came out for 2 seconds, went back in for half an hour etc etc. This carried on for a bit but unfortunately on this day we were short on loo roll and his nibs delicate bum was getting sore. After all the loo roll had nearly ran out and he decided it was just easier to get in the shower.
At this stage his large bowel was empty and his small bowel contents was steaming towards his sphincter like a melted chocolate freight train. He thinks he's going to fart but instead he follows through and not just a little. Molten galaxy poo shoots out over the taps. 'Oh my god' I said 'what are you doing?'
He says 'I can't hold it in. I thought it was just a fart'. I'm trying to get ready at this point and the stench is gross and I'm stuck in there trying to have a wee and stuff. His nibs bends over to clean the taps and more shoots out his bum at 90 degrees all over the back of the bath where are sponges are sat.
'oh no I've shat on the sponges' he says.
'Bloody hell fire man. What are we supposed to use to wash with now?' I say. He turns round to pick them up to attempt to wash them and shits on the taps again.
'What the hell are you doing?' I ask him watching him wash out the sponges. ' we can't use them again, you've shat on them. Give them here'. I take them and chuck them in the bin. Hope then joins us.
'what has Daddy shat on mummy?' she asks.
His nibs and I titter then tell her not to say that word. But she knows what it means!
'Our sponges' I tell her and she wants to see the sponges and I tell her they are in the bin, she goes to look and put her hand in the bin. 'no leave them there!' I shout.
'but I want to see mummy' she says.
I shimmy her out the bathroom. meanwhile mr 90 degree poo bum is still at it and I decide to leave him to it. I can't breath anymore and need some air.
I say I'll come back and see him later and head with Hope to the pool. I put a sign on the door not to diturb. God forbid some poor soul should have their nostrils assaulted too.
Hope and I are making our way to the pool when Hope pipes up. 'I wish Daddy hadn't shat on my sponge Mummy. What am I going to use to wash with now?'
I shake my head. I give up.
I was working a night shift with 4 obsessive compulsive cleaners one night and the subject got on to cleaning and the fact that one of them mops twice a day, the rest at least once a day. One of them has 2 dogs and the dogs get their feet wiped with baby wipes on coming back into the house when they have been out in the garden. They get their bums baby wiped too when they have pooped!!
I felt so scutty and filthy that when I got home after my shift I actually had to go mop the floor. I can't remember the last time I did it. It's just too much hassle. I can't be arsed to find my slippers to out on so I don't get wet feet when I've done it. Someone always lets the dogs in and they paddle all over it. Hope always comes in no matter how many times I tell her to stay out and skids onto her bum and then cries about it at least once.
When I get my new kitchen I may feel differently about it but I can't be arsed to care for a floor that I think is minging. However having said that the conservatory floor is new and I don't bother about that either. But then I purposefully had a dark floor so it wouldn't show the muck.
Now the bathroom on the other hand is different. It's white and therefore shows every bit of muck up. Now I'm a bit of a green freak so bleach was banned in the house. That is until the white bathroom arrived. I ran into a spot of bother though with getting the bleach on my clothes and as I'm a lazy badger I can't be arsed to change clothes to clean and then back again.
I asked the 'obsessives' at work what they cleaned with and a resounding 'bleach' was thrown back at me. So I asked if they wore 'cleaning clothes' and the one that didn't said she cleaned the bathroom in the nude!! Excellent idea. So I tried it. How fantastic. The only problem is his nibs thinks it's another 'sex' oppurtunity particularly when the plug hole needs cleaning!!
Sunday, 24 August 2008
I had gotten up after a night shift sleep to the roofers knocking on the door, still in my PJ's. It was about half 1 I think. The people who did our conservatory buggered up the new roof we had put on the flat roof so they got someone to come and make good the mess they made.
I was in the kitchen making the guys a drink, there were 2 of them a younger lad and an older guy. They were busy getting on with it when someone came through the gate. I thought it was someone to do with them and he chatted to them a bit before knocking on the conservatory door which was open. He came and stood in the conservatory and I stood at the back door and he told me a neighbours dog had gone missing and could he take a photo of the dog foot prints in the concrete of the conservatory floor (my dog Trump went out the cat flap about half hour after it was laid!) as the prints might belong to the dog and then the photos might help find the dog!
I know I'd been in nights and had just got up so wasn't the full ticket so was a bit like 'WTF is this guy on about?' I asked him if he had a data base of dog prints in case they go missing or commit crimes so their foot prints can be traced. He ignored me and went on to ask the same question 3 or 4 times. I told him my dog had done the prints and he asked to see the dog and asked what sort of dog it was and was I sure it was my dog that did it? After shouting at him that it was my dog that did it and to bugger off he then asked me if we wanted facsias! He had some leaflets in his hand and held them up as if to show me that what he was really here for but they were rolled up so I couldn't see what they were for.
I was just starting to get a bit freaked out and asked him to go when he looked down at my pyjama bottom and refering to the tags at the waist band said 'tell you what duck if you pull those you might get a portion'!
That was it! I demanded he get out my house NOW!! He went outside and carried on talking to the guys outside asking them for a job and I shouted 'bugger off' out the door and he eventually he left the garden.
I called the police to report it. I'm like that, you never know if anything will come of something like that. The police were brill I have to say. A while later after my shower and on my way to school to pick up Hope I saw him at a door down the road leaning in. So I marched up the drive and asked the lady if he was bothering her. She looked a bit distressed and he moved away from the door. I then told him again to bugger off and that he freaking people out and was being a nuisance. He replied 'I'm only doing my job' as if he'd done nothing wrong.
He had been trying to get the woman in the house to look at her shoe rack behind her telling her some bullshit about a feature of it that didn't exist. We then realised the key was in the door and if she'd turned round to look away he could have got the key out the door as he leaned in. Quite scary really.
I told his nibs about it and a couple of weeks later we were out on the bikes and I saw this guy at someones front door. I shouted back to Bruce 'He's that pervert who wanted to photograph the dog prints' We just cycled past and didn't stop. It kind of freaked out a bit to know he knew where I lived although I don't think he's hve remembered, he seemed a sandwich short of a picnic and didn't seem to recognize me at the other ladies house.
There's been nothing in the news about him thank god. But it just made me realise how you think you are OK in your home with the doors unlocked and it's ok. I don't want to get paranoid but this guy just walked into our back garden without batting an eyelid!!
Luckily Trump is pretty good at seeing people off she deosn't know who come into the garden. Daffy the stupid labrador would just wag her tail and give them a lick.
We put a lock on the gate as one day when Hope was about 18 months old we heard her, whilst we lay in bed, out the front of the house with the dog. I looked out the window and there she was in her nappy with her dummy and the dog pottering about out the front. She'd crawled through the cat flat and gone out the gate and round the front! So we put a lock on the gate that weekend.
Now instead of using it so much to keep her in. I tend to use it to keep the weirdos out.
The worst thing is when I see kids not wearing belts or strapped in properly. What sort of mentality do these people have? I can't comprehend it. I saw a parent, fag in hand, with her seat belt on most days driving her child to school with the child stood in the foot well hanging, on the dash board. She arrives at school prks on the zig zag lines and dumps the kid off, he runs off into school (he must only be 5 or 6) and she does a 3 point turn in the school safety zone and drives off not a care in the world. Did she even want this child? Does she not know anyone at all who would do anything to have a child? What would she feel like if this child bounced out of the front windscreen onto the road and possibly hit by another car or hit a tree or whatever. She was stopped once at the crossng and I crossed in front of her with my daughter, she had her windows open as it was a warm morning and I wasn't in a very good mood anyway but it gav me the confidence to stand in front of her car and yell at her to put her childs seat belt on and put her fag out. Did she not care about the child in the car with her at all? I think she was too shocked to respond or didn't even realise what I was saying. She probably thought I was some raving loony cow maybe!
These are all speculations and what really are the chances of it happening? Probably very little statistically but why risk it? Why do we bother with insurances if we think it's never going to happen to us? Because we have to by law? because we have to to get a mortgage maybe?
What if ou had to sit and watch your child wth a head injury writhing around a bed unaware of where he/she is or who you are. Moaning and groaning nd unco-operative and the doctor tells you this is about as good as it's going to get. Or worse still tha ther brain is too injured due to the accident to ever recover an the parents have to sit there and watch them die?
People reckon suicide is really selfish but I reckon not wearing a seatbelt is really selfish. It only takes a second to put on. It can save your life, it can save the life of your passenger, your child, your wife, your husband , whoever is in the car with you. It could prevent your family having to go through watching you die or watching you suffer. It can prevent hurt, grief, pain, a lifetime without you. It can prevent you from killing the person in front of you as a back seat passenger.
Think of all the man hours needed to put a person back together following a car crash without a belt on, doctors, nurses, radiographers, physios, occupational therapists to name but a few. Think of the days, weeks, months you may have to spend getting better if you're lucky enough to get that far. Think of the people you may have to leave behind.
Look at yourself in the mirror next time you get in a car. Are you not worthy of living? Are you invincible? Look at the person next to or behind you. Do they deserve to not have you in their lives or do you not deserve to have them in yours? Protect them and yourselves. Think of others. Be a good sport. Make my day and prove to me that there aren't tons of selfish tossers out there.
Saturday, 23 August 2008
The female would rub the back of a friend and hold her hair our the way and get their friend a glass of water or if it's their other half would leave them to it and probably say something like 'it's your own fault you twat' when they are calling God through the toilet (he doesn't ever answer coz if he did tell him I want a word with him too). It's probably because I am only wearing my knickers which are g-strings (or were when I was a lass before my apron appeared). But how do men find that erotic? I could't think of anything worse.
My friends husband has just had the snip and I texted her to see how his 'balls' were (my daughter who's 5 says they are 'nuts' coz her friend at school told her) and she said 'apart from the fact he's grumpy she can bend over in peace and can lie in bed without being poked ( with you know what) fondled or harrased!! wow can I have that at least 2 days a week please. Imagine the peace. I could get changed without worry, I could bend over, I could have a bath, I could be naked etc all without the hassle of 'the hands'.
Not only are male brains programmed in that way but what is it about video games? I like my nintendo DS and get addiction to scrabble or somesuch game but combat, football and motor racing???? BORING. His nibs has been without x box for 6 weeks so 'the hands' have been idle with not much to do except pester the hell out of me. I was supposed to stay in yesterday for it to be delivered back but I forgot and took Hope horse riding instead Whoops, his nibs was not happy. He's got to wait til tuesday not to get it and I'm at work 2 nights as well now so not only has he got no x box he's also got no-one to harrass with the possibility of some how's your father if he pesters enough (giving in to pestering with kids is not a good thing so why do I let him get away with it??)
Wish I'd stayed in in a way but I don't care coz I won't be here! :-)
When it is here he's usually watching csi with me them his phone beeps (which is unusual because he has no friends) I know exactly who it is. I call him 'the boyfriend' his nibs looks at me out the corner of his eye and starts to fidget. When I've let him stew for a few seconds I say 'go on then off you go' as if I'm talking to a child that wants to go and play or a dog that wants to jump into the water, and off he goes into the spare room (aptly called the play room)that's when the giggling starts and the yacking. I usually go to bed and read coz there's bog all on TV and even with ear plugs in I can still hear the droning interspersed with titters. It drives me insane. I get up and go to the play room and burst through the door. His nibs sits there trying to keep a straight face looking like a kid caught doing something he shouldn't and I tell him to 'shut the f**k up', he nods and apologizes then as soon as I go out the door it starts again. It's like having a teenager in the house!!
I know he's younger than me but blimey he finally reached his 30's this year. You'd think, wouldn't you that he would grow up a bit.......
It's saturday so it's sheet washing day. It's the only load of washing I will wash in the day a) because I have only one set I like and if I leave it to wash overnight his nibs (Bruce my beloved) will put on the spare bed linen which I don't like as much and b) I wash it usually when I'm at work that night so I don't have to make it!!!! ha ha
Upon opening the door I realise magic washing machine isn't so magic, what a let down. Finally I thought there was a washing God who magically washed, ironed and put away. Oh well it seems not. I chucked a load of washing down the stairs late last night before I went for a bath and asked his nibs to put it in the washing machine. I nearly added, 'don't forget to put it on' but thought better of it as he's a grown man and all he wouldn't be that stupid........well silly me, again!
He takes the washing, puts it in the machine, puts in the powder.Then what happens? Aliens take over his brain? Gets distracted thinking about his precious x box that's taken 6 weeks to be mended (that's another story). The dogs (who usually he never pays attention to) distract him? What is it? I would love to know. I know sometimes I'm absent minded but that's when I'm doing three jobs at once.
When is someone, whoever it is who is responsible for mens brains, going to put the housework programme in. Evolution has a lot to answer for in recent years but why has this basic function still not available in the male model?