Tonka Trucks are Unbreakable…

I found out this interesting fact this morning at 4.30am when I was wandering around the house in the dark trying to get Napoleon organised for work and I stepped on one. I also found out another interesting fact… my foot is not unbreakable! Well, I didn’t break my foot, but I did manage to scrape all the skin off from under my toes and between my big toe and the next one. I was sprawled on the floor crying with blood running down the sole of my foot when I picked up the truck and threw it against the wall. My walls aren’t unbreakable either!

Was God the Black Sheep?

Yesterday at Church after entertaining the couple of pews directly behind us with a beautiful rendition of “Have you seen the Muffin Man?” and receiving the ovation he so thoroughly deserved, Clyde decided he was in Church so he must pray. Now, the only prayer he knows (or doesn’t know which seems to be the case here) is grace that they say at day care before lunch, which goes…

Thank you for the world so sweet
Thank you for the food we eat
Thank you for the birds that sing
Thank you Lord for everything
Amen.

So Clyde clapped his hands together in prayer and started…

“Thank you for the world so sweet
Thank you for the Master
Thank you for the Dame
And thank you for the little boy who lives down the lane.
Amen.”

Let me ask this… what about the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker? Don’t they deserve some thanks. At least they can hold down jobs. As for the others, the Master is the Dame’s pimp who’s out prostituting herself so they can buy some crack from the kid who lives in the cardboard box down the lane!

Happy Easter!

Hope your Easter treated you better than these bunnies!

The woes of a working mum

I’m feeling a little down today.

About an hour and a half ago, my beautiful little Bonnie had her Easter Hat parade at school. Napoleon couldn’t make it, neither could I.

I really didn’t want to watch 900 kids parade around in really bad hats, but I did want to be there so Bonnie would not feel left out because most of the other kids parents would be there.

Also, Bonnie was excited about the upcoming school holidays and when she told me I said, “Honey, I know it’s school holidays, but you have to go to vacation care at the school.” She was a little less than impressed so I tried to cheer her up by telling her about an excursion to the movies on the first day of vacation care. She still wasn’t very happy. I asked her, “how do you think you’ll get to the movies?” She didn’t know, so I told her she would be catching the bus. Her eyes lit up! She’s never been on the bus and she’s all excited about it now and cannot wait until vacation care starts.

I love you Bonnie, I’m sorry!

Aunty Karol

Aunty Karol (Napoleon’s sister) came down from the Gold Coast to visit us on the weekend. We haven’t seen her in about 15 months and miss her terribly.

It was nice to catch up with her and her beau (Michael) but were very sad to wave goodbye at the end of the day.

Hopefully, it won’t be so long “between drinks” next time.

WE LOVE YOU AUNTY KAROL!

Brazilian Wax

I stumbled upon this article on the net today…

The closest shave you can have. This new cult of body waxing takes us back to our roots. Removing all hair from the vagina area, the Brazilian Wax although sadistic in nature is surprisingly not as painful as you might think, to some.

Introduced to New Yorkers in 1987, the Brazilian wax emerged when seven Brazilian sisters, Jocely, Jonice, Joyce, Janea, Jussara, Juracy, and Judseia Padilha opened J. Sisters International Salon in midtown Manhattan. And women's bikini lines were changed forever!

The Brazilian bikini wax is an acquired taste and is not for everyone. Some women can endure the pain while others it's just too much to bare. For those of you interested in modeling it's a must, but I'd recommend a lead up before you take the plunge.

Brazilian waxing involves spreading hot wax your buttocks and vagina area. A cloth is patted over the wax, then pulled off. Don't be alarmed if the waxer throws your legs over your shoulder, or asks you to moon them, this is normal and ensures there are no stray hairs. A tweezer is used for the more delicate areas (red bits).

So why does it appeal. Nobody really likes hair in their private regions and it has a childlike appeal. Men love it, and are eternally curious about it.

Your Brazilian Wax will last for about one to two months before stubble appears, it may be itchy as it grows and watch out for ingrown hairs. Don't try this a home, you need to seek a professional waxer.

Now this is my question. WHY? I know its been around for years but I never realised just how invasive the procedure is. You’re probably aware I’m not averse to waxing but I don’t even want my husband to get a visual of my sphincter let alone some strange woman armed with hot wax and tweezers. I have enough problems getting a regular pap test and that’s “flashing my slash” at someone with a very expensive education, not some chick who did an 8 hour course at the Community College at the local high school. “It may be itchy as it grows out and watch out for ingrown hairs” also doesn’t instill much faith. I could get an ingrown hair in my arse?

No thanks…. I think I’ll give it a miss!

I Call It Manipulation

I always thought that when I had kids they’d call me Mum, but that’s just not the case. My children have their own little name for me. It’s “Mum-Can-I”. Every time the word “Mum” passes their lips, without fail the words “can I” come straight after it. Mum-Can-I have a lollie? Mum-Can-I watch a video? Mum-Can-I set fire to the house?

Tonight after hearing “Mum-Can-I” for the 27th time within an hour, I bit Bonnie’s head off… “WHAAAAAT?” and she says “Can I have a kiss?” I felt about an inch tall. God that kid knows how to push my buttons!

Mum, stop laughing at me!!

And you thought the Golden Slipper was a horse race…

Napoleon needed a new pair of shoes, so he and Bonnie went shopping to get some. While they were there, Bonnie spied a pair of golden slippers that she just had to have.

Bonnie: Daddy, can I have these please?
Daddy: Not today, honey.
Bonnie: But I waaaaant them! But I neeeeeeeeed them!
Daddy: Okay, but you have to wear them.
Bonnie: Oh daddy, I promise I’ll wear them all the time.

… and true to her word….

I just worked out how to upload photos...

... and this is the only one of both Bonnie & Clyde I have available at the moment.

It was taken by Jinky of Jinkyart fame... currently featured in this month's Family Circle magazine... my one and only famous friend. (Jinky, Bonnie told me the other day that Scoobie Doo is as famous as Aunty Barb.)

I could write a sonnet about your Easter bonnet...

Bonnie and I went to Spotlight on Saturday to purchase supplies for the making of an Easter bonnet. She picked out a little straw hat and then feathers, flowers, butterflies, birds and ribbon with which to adorn it.

We got home and I mentioned lunch… no time for that… we have a bonnet to make!!!

What a jigsaw puzzle that was… Bonnie placed all the pieces on the hat to make sure she was happy with the way it looked and once she was, it was time for gluing. We beavered away ambitiously for about an hour until all said ornaments were firmly adhered to the hat. Bonnie put on the hat, I tied a bow under her chin and stepped back to inspect her masterpiece…

Well, it looked like a drag queen exploded on her head. I don’t think there were that many feathers at Mardi Gras… oh well, as long as she’s happy.

In your Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it,

You’ll be the grandest lady in the Easter parade.

I’ll be all in clover and when they look you over,

I’ll be the proudest fellow in the Easter parade.

On the avenue, fifth avenue, the photographers will snap us,

And you’ll find that you’re in the rotogravure.

Oh, I could write a sonnet about your Easter bonnet,

And of the girl I’m taking to the Easter parade