Grown Up Girl Lost











 Wanted:  One Mother\wife – like person to adopt a menagerie of men children and various forms of pooping\puking domestic wildlife.  Successful applicants will be required to fulfill and undertake the following criteria-

 

  • Be an arduous task master when it comes to scraping dried cereal from the floor and kitchen table

 

  • Be adept at  scrambling under beds and finding missing school ties and 35 over -due library books

 

  •  Expertly utilise an entire weeks worth of towels to sop up bathtub overflows.  Sometimes blaming  it on the kids, but occasionally confessing to  a  few too many wines and a little distraction known as Facebook

 

  •  Maintain a grown up, respectable telephone conversation with an “out sourced” Indian telephone operator, whilst silently separating fighting offspring with an expert arm yank

 

  • Be able to keep a straight face during the most excruciating conversations with 5 year old boys about testicles and why it’s not a good idea to try and “pop” them!

 

  • Convincingly appreciate (and keep forever!) the entire recycled waste of a small country (think Sweden) creatively fashioned  into various forms of art presented to you on Mothers Day morning 

 

  • Successfully pretend to be going off to an office job as you go through the McDonald’s drive through for a coffee when in reality you merely going home to blog and Facebook

 

  • Successfully  feign interest when the MOTH (Man Of The House)  is extolling the virtues of a square pie over a round pie

 

  • Expertly hide yourself and the children in a darkened house as Mormons knock incessantly on the  front door

 

  • Be a Maven  of emotional blackmail, frequently making statements like “everything I do for you kids, and I never get a thank you…………………..”

 

  • Be  able to forage through knee deep refuse on Xmas afternoon, looking for instructions for toys that were accidentally thrown out, despite the garbage bin smelling like a cat’s died in there!

 

  • Happily provide expert medical care to pseudo sick family members whilst bleeding out ones’ own ears. 

 

Clearly an exciting career opportunity for a highly motivated go getter.  Wages are non existent, however the successful applicant will have unlimited access to mountains of cold leftovers.

 

Interested parties, should not bother contacting me, I’ve already left!

tough_woman

 



{April 23, 2009}   A tale of Dahling Goodwife.

It’s 9:15pm on a Wednesday night.  The bath, full to the brim with suds and bubbles, hides a soaking Dahling.  Eyes closed, glass of red in hand, the house is peaceful.  Two of three children sleep, the youngest (by 19 minutes) can be heard flopping around in the hallway, complaining of phantom leg cramps, and occasionally calling out “April Fools!” despite it being April 23.

From two rooms away, a familiar theme streams out from the television.  Dahling sits up at the sound, head cocked.  There are mutterings, the sound fuzzy, then the words “My name is Earl.”  She gasps, leaping from the bath, a tidal wave of froth spilling onto the floor.  Her towel barely covers her pinkness, as she skirts the through the hallway maze, leaping over a prone child in the doorway.

 

“I’m gonna make it,” she thinks to herself. 

 

A triple loop half loop double toe combination sees her pass through the kitchen, grabbing the cordless phone as she goes.  Her fingers slip as she punches in the 10 digit number that will connect her with interstate MOTH.  She considers possible electrocution as she presses the phone to her ear.  It rings for an interminable time.  As she sits, pondering Jason Lees’ spectacular moustache, her heart is pounding.  Adrenaline sweat disguised as bath water puddles around her.  Eventually he answers, and she can hear their show in the background.  

  “Hello?”  

“EARL’S ON!” she screams wassup style. 

 In a smiling voice he shouts back

“IknowI’mwatchingitrightnow!”

“Cool, bye!”

“Ok, bye!” 

Dahling sighs and smiles……………………………… 

 pinupgirlbath_ebay



{February 26, 2009}   I’m just not that into her!

Ever had one of those friends that you know likes you more than you like them? The kind of friend that still talks about the first time you met, and uses both your kids and their kids names in the same sentence as if they are friends, despite the fact that her kids are the kinds of kids that grown ups mutter about at parties? No? Well, I’ve suddenly become the proud owner of a new, unwanted, and dull as dishwater friend! Great you might say! At least if she’s dull she won’t have much to say. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

When we first discovered this “fascinating” individual (a work acquaintance) people noted how she and I would get along swimmingly, both being fans of the loquacious. Instead though, I found myself wanting to turn and flee whenever she entered the room.

And when she does enter, she’s so happy to see me. She brings wine for us to share, and sends books home that she thinks I may like. And instead of being grateful, I feel my skin trying to back out of the room at the sound of her voice. Why you may ask? Well let me tell you. This woman can talk. Correction, this woman can talk at an accelerated rate that only crack addicts freebasing speed  guzzling espresso on the Concord could follow.

A woman whose mouth works at a rocket propelled grenade velocity. Who takes a breath in when you start speaking, and holds it till you take a breath, and then blows your conversation clean out of the water.

Most topics of choice include

“Every conversation I ever had”

“Why what you just said was wrong”

“Nobody knows as much as me”

And….

“How my constant correcting and interrupting will make the world a better place!”

I think she thinks I’m awesome because I tend to stay quiet when she’s around. I mean what’s not to like about someone who lets you dominate the conversation? I think maybe she thinks I’m hanging on her every fascinating word. Truth is I’ve drifted off into a coma. Dreaming of meeting Johnny Depp in the Land of Chocolate in my new Prada heels! Meanwhile she’s still blabbing on (heaven forbid she actually talk about something someone else might be interested in) and hasn’t realized that I’m dousing myself in gasoline in the seat next to her (Flying High style). Honestly, isn’t listening to boring conversations the reason I got married?

Initially I thought maybe I felt a bit over shadowed. I mean, in my world, I’m the shiniest thing in it!  I’m interesting with a bit of quirk, and I don’t mind if people think I’m a bit oddball. So a diversion, like a mind numbing conversation about the “combustion engine,” can really be a stick in the spokes of my awesome bike ride through crazy town.

Truth is, I know when I’m beat. She can have the grey old limelight and all the exasperated eye rolling that goes with it. I still think I’m awesome, but in a non talking way. A bit like a mute superiority complex.

Tedious, having to spend time with someone who thinks they know it all, when clearly; I’ve got that base covered! But, you see, now I’m a grown up. So…”ppffffttt!” to her!

noisepollution460



{January 12, 2009}   Morons! They walk amongst us!

An awesome blog today was written today

Into it my emotions poured

I plunged the depths of sadness

Other times my feelings soared

And despite my words of insight

And true enlightenment

My computer skills are clumsy

“Save” turned to obliterate.

Words just sad little ideas once more

Potential forever unfulfilled

Despair replaced my smugness

As I wish to disappear

Into a giant, wine filled vacuum

With a doona wound tight around my head

I cannot make the words look like a punch

But condescending husbands

Will feel the wrath

If they don’t walk away.

retards



et cetera