Monthly Archives: July 2011
What strikes fear into the heart of every parent more than the fear of losing their child?
It’s losing the child’s teddy.
In Marks and Spencer’s.
And proceeding to run frantically around the shop shouting”Teddy?”
Teddy was found ten minutes later perched happily on a rail (obviously placed there by some saint) watching hysterical Mammy with much amusement.
Well summer is briefly here at long last. Not sure how much of it we’ll get but our vegetables are looking great.
With the kids help, we’ve planted so much this year that I’m in danger of becoming Felicity Kendall with the chickens and the veg patch.
Although she didn’t have kids.
And I don’t do dungarees.
Fair swap really.
I read Red Hiding Hood to Evie and Gruff tonight and they thought it was fantastic.
Evie was not amused in the slightest at the eating up of Red Riding Hood and Grandma by the Wolf but thought it was great that her father then killed him with an axe, and pulled them both out alive.
Old ones are the best eh?
They pay people to do this in MacDonalds, they go round sweeping up cold chips and bits of nugget mixed in with whatever else gets dropped on the floor. Little dustpans and brushes on long sticks so you don’t have to bend down.
I got myself one with a pretty pattern on. It was a weak moment and I had my guard down and I bought into the shop’s subliminal message that all household objects have to have a pretty pattern on it.
Maybe someone’s vain attempt to make such a mundane and soul destroying job more aestheticly pleasing. (I would prefer a scene of Dante’s inferno to describe the sentiment I feel when sweeping up mashed boiled egg mixed with peppers and rice and cat hair).