I thought I was blog post empty tonight.
I should have known that wasn’t the case at all. Writers block rarely happens to me and when it does I get so twitchy that I do something dumb and WHAMMO we have something to blog about.
Anyway. That isn’t happening right now like I thought it was.
Nope that isn’t happening now BECAUSE ..
I am sleeping on what feels like a pillow full of tissues because I gave my good pillow up to the tween to
So laying here with my pile of tissues in a pillow slip folded over for more thickness, got me thinking about all the other things that have given me the frigging shits since arriving at our holiday destination.
Let me list :
1. A certain newly caffeine addicted Husband dragged the coffee machine out before anything was unpacked on our arrival. He then promptly made himself a brew, holding up our dinner that was about to be dished out. All because he was tired and ADDICTED. And therefore we had to abstain from eating dinner for him to sip his coffee and talk like he was about to require the Blue Nurses to visit and shower and care for him anytime soon. WTF IS THAT ABOUT?
2. I was ravenous when we arrived due to my Husband getting food for everyone but me at our half way drive stop. His excuse consisted of the servo only having fried food or sandwiches AND I didn’t really look like I needed food anyway. Now, refer back to Point Number 1 and why dinner being served up straight away would have been lovely considering I had been driving 3 hours on a rumbling gut.
3. Toddler was given an effing horn on arrival at our holiday destination.
Somebody SHOOT ME NOW.
4. Tween informs me that she hopes it doesn’t get too cold this week as she only packed rubber thongs. Despite me telling her at least 5678 times to pack thongs AND CLOSED IN SHOES.
5. I left my fucking phone charger in the car and it is dark and cold and I cannot bring myself to go out and grab it. So I must type this post fast before I loose battery and my hot spot.
6. My children dry up the dishes for Granny and not me.
6. My Husband’s footy injuries from last weekend seemed to have taken a turn for the worse now in his Mother’s company.
7. Toothpaste complaints from all children. Who let’s all of their children use different types toothpaste? Oh that’s right I do. So when I only pack one type I AM THE WORLDS WORST MOTHER.
9. MY HUSBAND IS GROWING A BEARD. I do not find beards useful, practical, attractive or suitable for someone I like to stalk or sleep next to. Unless you are Chet Faker or Adam Levine. Not that I have slept with either of them. They just seem like acceptable beardies I would sleep next to if I
WAS GIVEN A CHANCE HAD TO.
10. Last but not least. (Let’s face it you don’t truly have the shits unless you have a point on each one of your 10 fingers) The toddler who has snubbed me since we arrived has his little toes in my ribs. A reminder of being pregnant with him. Only now that he talks, he tells his Granny how much he doesn’t like me but still MUST SLEEP WITH ME.
So onwards and upwards from here.
As in a visit to Dan Murphy’s at 8am tomorrow morning.