Sunday, 21 April 2019

House Guest

So Isla turned fifteen, it has been Delight-ful, D.Light.Ful. Yes siree; so filled with light, and fun, and smiles, and glee and all round appreciation for the work and toil its has taken to get her to half of thirty. Oh Joy of Joy.

In other news, sarcasm has arrived in our house. Isla bought her in like an old sweaty friend who you never really liked and you SWEAR you didn’t give your new address to but she’s turned up on your doorstep and is now taking up the biggest bit of the sofa and complaining that it’s cold.

The kind that drinks your wine and wonders loudly why the bottle’s empty and eats the last twiglet while you’re uncorking the third bottle.

The one who sleeps alone in the spare room and uses every single guest towel from the cupboard and opens the emergency mini toothbrush and Colgate set and the wrapped bit of soap and steals the tampons.

The friend who eats crisps in the shower and can’t figure out why the drain’s blocked and stands there dripping on you while you poke it out with your index finger.

That friend.

So obviously we’re delighted that she’s come to stay.

It’s a little galling that Isla is better acquainted with our visiting guest than us, I mean I’ve been practising for YEARS. I’m dead sarcastic, I know it doesn’t show or anything, but inside I’m thinking sarcastic things.

The other day Isla was walking in boots that were unlaced and I pointed it out. Just nicely, you know, in the manner of a human being.

‘Uh thanks mum, like your laces are never undone”

Which they have been in the past of course, and I didn’t trip over and break my head and have three months learning to count again because another human being pointed it out to me in the manner of a human being and I bent over and did them up. 

Also, yesterday she boomed down the stairs:

Where’s that shopping I left in the car?

Did you bring it out of the car? I asked in a needing more information, mild mannered way


Well then it’s still in the car, I said logically.

This earned me a hair toss and a look that said your logic is old fashioned and out to get me, you dark overlord of the night. Lend me fifteen pounds to get over it.

So it really is very very nice that we have a fifteen year old living in the house, and of course Husband, dog and eleven year old.  Very very nice indeed.

Sunday, 14 April 2019

Things I Have Said To My Mother Today

  • Oh hello
  • It's nice that you remembered
  • No no party, just a cake
  • Next Saturday
  • What would I like?
  • I don't really need presents
  • What do you mean oh good?
  • Have you nothing in mind?
  • You're what?
  • Say that slowly
  • How are you leaving your head to medical science?
  • For my birthday
  • I know I said I didn't really need presents
  • But for my birthday
  • I'm sure it will be very interesting
  • And full of useful information
  • You have kept it pristine
  • They will love your cake recipes 
  • You do have a lot of good ideas
  • I'm just not sure I want your head for my birthday
  • Unless it's imminent
  • JOKE
  • Honestly it was a joke
  • I am taking it seriously
  • You're right it's just like adopting a goat
  • Except this is your head
  • I'm sure they will have seen nothing quite like it
  • I'm glad you're excited

Wednesday, 10 April 2019

Things I Have Said To My Husband Today

  • Just remember what we talked about
  • I’m only reminding you
  • In case you forget
  • You promised to be nice 
  • Nice
  • As in say nice things, don’t insult My Mother
  • Because it’s her birthday
  • And they’ve agreed to come here for lunch
  • It is a big deal
  • They haven’t been here since you showed her that rude cucumber
  • The rude one
  • Yes the one you waggled
  • It was the way you waggled it
  • Well sort of up and down
  • And suggested lube
  • So it’s a big deal they’re coming
  • What special present
  • From you
  • Oh that’s SO nice
  • Thank you so much
  • It’s a what
  • A burqua?
  • Full face?
  • You can’t give My Mother a burqua for her birthday
  • It will not improve her looks
  • It won’t help you eat
  • I’m sorry about your nausea
  • You simply can’t
  • Dad won’t agree
  • What do you mean he went halves?

Tuesday, 9 April 2019

The Dog Is Incontinent

So Twizzle is incontinent.

I should just leave it there really.

It only adds to his charm obviously. 

Also he is allergic to his own fur which means a slight medicated fungus smell to the entire soft furnishing collection in the house and all garments that reach below the thigh. (Husband’s mini skirts are all ok then, har har). 

The thing is, he wasn’t that incontinent until we got chickens, just when My Mother visited, it was kind of their special thing

Obviously, we have a glorious and majestic history with pets in the Millennium Housewife household, Twizzle being the pinnacle of our reign with his humping and biting party piece. 

Chickens we thought, would be a wise addition to the family. Don’t they live outside? Check. Practically look after themselves? Check. Provide money saving opportunities by supplying eggs? Check. Cost very little indeed? Check. 

We had this wonderful, Good Life dream of owning a few chickens; little chooks that will toddle around the garden and give us lots of fresh and wholesome eggs. Fluffy birdies that cluck when you throw them corn and peck at bits of vegetables gratefully and in a humorous manner. An educating experience for the kids, one that includes regular cleaning out and Responsibility.

Yup, chickens were the way to go. Easy peasy.

To date they have cost us a million pounds. 

Firstly they require quite a lot of things to live in and keep them safe from foxes. Then they don’t like a lot of the things you have paid to have built to save their lives and lay eggs in places that you didn’t build for them to lay eggs.
So then you have to get other things like RABBIT HUTCHES so that they feel comfortable laying the free eggs that you’re hoping they’ll lay.

And they do lay free eggs. When it’s warm and light and dry. We live in England. They lay eggs about three days a year.

Plus, one of them got an inverted vent, which means its bottom went inside out. All of the pages on the Internet which had encouraged us to have chickens showed helpful pictures of steaming the chicken's bottom over warm water, much in the manner of a facial. Then gently putting your finger up the chicken’s bottom and turning the outside bottom inside.

I will type that again: putting your finger up the chicken’s bottom and turning the outside bottom inside. 

Which fell to me. Husband said that he’d try but the girth of his fingers would be uncomfortable for the chicken. Quite.

The worst bit was that it didn’t work the first time. We gave it longer on the steamer the second time and I was encouraged to poke a bit further up. We held our breath as the outside bottom seemed to stay where it should be, on the inside bottom, for a few seconds.

And then it popped out again, like a pink, accusatory turd.

It was at this bottom popping out moment that Twizzle humped the sideboard and managed an eye line with the chicken’s bottom having a facial over the sink. And then he froze, witnessing the outside bottom poking inside exercise. And yelped when the thing popped out again.

A which point he wee’d all over the floor and hasn’t stopped.

Then the chicken cost us £150 at the vets for a steroid injection to get the bottom to go in again, and we couldn’t eat any of the eggs because of the steroids. 

So now we have four chickens, no eggs, a rabbit hutch and an incontinent dog.

Any thoughts on hamsters? 

Sunday, 31 August 2014

Things I have Said To My Husband Today

  • Oooh thanks
  • Lovely
  • I do love my birthday
  • No no that's fine
  • Lots of little ones are great
  • I don't need a big present
  • Hmmm
  • I wonder what it is
  • Oh
  • Err
  • Lovely
  • Yes I know
  • I know I need a new mug
  • It's great
  • It's 
  • Just
  • Well
  • It's pink
  • And got a willy for a handle
  • I'm sure you did have a laugh
  • I'm glad you enjoyed shopping
  • For the first time
  • Yes yes
  • What a funny shop girl
  • I bet she does have great taste
  • And loves willy mugs
  • But
  • Well
  • What do I do when friends come over
  • And they see me with a willy mug
  • Oh
  • I see
  • All of them?
  • Six?
  • I do like matching sets yes
  • It will be a talking point
  • I do like lots of presents
  • I just didn't think they'd be willy themed
  • Should I expect willy mugs in every present?
  • Excellent
  • Excellent
  • So there's nothing else?
  • Oh
  • Ok
  • I'd love one last surprise
  • I'm glad you're excited
  • Yes I'm excited too
  • Hmmm
  • I wonder what it is
  • Oooh
  • A sleeping bag
  • Yes I did need a new one
  • It's just
  • Well
  • It's in the shape of a willy
  • Yes I do appreciate the theming
  • It will be lovely and warm
  • What do you mean that's not all?
  • What else could there possibly be?
  • Oh
  • I see
  • I'm glad you got one too
  • Yes it will be fun camping
  • We will look good
  • Ohh even better
  • Yes that's certainly the best bit
  • I'm really glad they zip together
  • Excellent
  • Yes I get the joke
  • Two peas in a pod wasn't exactly what came to mind
  • You're right
  • I am the luckiest wife ever
  • I can't wait to go camping

Friday, 22 August 2014

Things I Have said To My Husband Today

  • That’s lovely
  • Thank you
  • Yes I do
  • I do love being on holiday
  • With you
  • Of course I like being with you
  • Well
  • Because
  • Well
  • We’re married
  • And that’s what married people do
  • What do you mean bored?
  • Why would I get bored/
  • Who’s bored?
  • You
  • Ah
  • Right
  • Ok
  • Well
  • What would you like to do?
  • What football?
  • In Spain?
  • Oh
  • Well
  • Ok
  • Just this once
  • You’re not doing me a favour
  • I don’t need you out of my hair
  • You’re not very annoying
  • Yes even when you dance
  • Please don’t dance
  • I like your jokes
  • Inappropriate is good
  • No
  • No I haven’t wished you had someone to play with
  • Waiting for what mates?
  • We’re in Spain
  • You don’t know anyone in Spain
  • So you don’t have any mates
  • You’ve what?
  • Invited who?
  • Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head?
  • What do you mean I’m welcome?
  • Oh good Lord Jesus Christ
  • Yes
  • Yes I hear it
  • Go and open the door then

Things I Have Said to Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head Today

  • Oh
  • Hi guys
  • Yes
  • Lovely to see you too
  • No thanks
  • No thanks Bucket Head
  • I can do my own suncream
  • Really
  • Well I tend to yes
  • Well always
  • I always wear a bikini top
  • No
  • I never take it off
  • Not even now
  • I know we’re in Europe
  • I don’t mind looking like a tourist
  • I don’t mind standing out
  • Please stop nudging each other
  • And grinning
  • Standing out is not a funny phrase
  • Very mature Pokey
  • Pretending to have boobs is a classic I agree
  • You’re all very funny
  • Here you go
  • All of you
  • It’ll get you an ice cream
  • Yes you can spend it on beer
  • Now go and watch the football

Monday, 4 August 2014

Things I Have Said To My Father Today

  • Hi Dad
  • It's me
  • Fine thanks
  • Yes, yes fine
  • All fine yes thanks
  • No I don't want to speak to mum
  • Well, you
  • Ok
  • Well
  • Err
  • Right
  • Um 
  • Well a package arrived addressed to you
  • At my house
  • Oh right
  • Glad you're not surprised
  • Oh that's lovely of you
  • Well I suppose surprises are nice yes
  • Mum does love surprises
  • Especially on her birthday
  • Well anything would beat the trowel you bought her last year
  • Or the comb from the year before
  • Yes she does use it daily
  • On the cat
  • The Internet is magic yes
  • All sorts of things
  • Excellent
  • I'm glad you're having such fun with it
  • And enjoying ordering surprises
  • It's just
  • Just
  • Well could you come and get it sometime
  • Before her birthday
  • Well I'm very sorry for ruining the surprise
  • But it's been sitting on the mantlepiece
  • And vibrating
  • And Jack asked me all about it
  • And made a rrrr ing noise
  • Well I said that you'd ordered a razor
  • And then it vibrated off the mantlepiece and the packaging split
  • Yes I did like the colour
  • Very nice
  • Well a sort of purply pink I suppose
  • It does suit mum's colouring yes
  • Could you come and get it?
  • It's just not suitable here
  • I left it on the floor
  • Rrrrr ing
  • Would you want to touch it?
  • Oh good lord
  • I don't need details thanks
  • I know we're all grown ups
  • No thanks
  • I really don't want to try one
  • It's not an investment 
  • My future happiness is fine
  • I don't care if there's a sale
  • I don't feel I'm missing out
  • Honestly
  • How's what going?
  • What do you mean in that department?
  • We're fine
  • I won't thank you in the future
  • Please don't suppose anything
  • Or make suggestions
  • He won't look at me with new eyes
  • No more details please
  • Could you just come and get it
  • Please
  • Ok
  • Fine
  • I'll think about it
  • I know how to work the internet thanks
  • I'll look it up
  • Yes I promise
  • And we'll never, ever mention this again.
  • Friday, 1 August 2014

    Old Kid On The Block

    Crikey restarting this blog is like starting school all over again, except this time you're the old and wrinkled one sitting at the back wondering where your friends went and if any of this new bunch bought a corkscrew.
    Firstly, I don't know my way around this new fangled blogosphere, the corridors smell funny, there's no set seating for lunch and my spot with the comfy grass round the back of the bike shed has been taken. I feel a Pile coming on.

    Secondly, I've got to make new friends. Which is painful, I'm terrible at it, I tend to fall over my words and make inappropriate jokes about anything that comes to mind. I was once introduced to a Mum at the school,  and all I could think of to say was:
    "Haven't you got even teeth"
    To be fair she had got really really straight teeth, but this was in answer to the question "is this your puppy?" Which it was, so I should have just said yes and would you like a stroke? Of the puppy not me hahahah - see, I do it on the keyboard too. I mean, would you be friends with me? Doubtful, I steal (WHY, why do I do that?)

    Anyway it's been four years away from this blogging malarky, my new career in interpretive dance went quickly by the wayside, apparently interpretive dance still means you actually have to be able to dance. Which the Cruise Liner didn't specifically say on the advert. Also, turning up dressed as a pantomime cow to the Captain's Welcome Dinner was seen as an interpretation too far even though we were having beef. Honestly, no sense of humour the lot of them.

     I did try and lighten the dinner up by taking up the captain's hat and spreading my arms out wing-like and singing My Heart Will Go On but he just looked crosser and went red. In one last attempt to get him to bloody cheer up, I winked at him through my costume and suggested I'd like him to draw me, "wearing this (tugging at cow costume) and only this" Flutter flutter, simper. So that was the end of my interpretative dance career.

    Last year I went to register as a childminder but they suggested I take a breathalyser before the next interview and to consider carefully if this was the career for me. Obviously I insisted that it was, I'd be ace at it.  I've got two kids of my own and they're alive, and I've had one of them for ten years, speaks for itself really.
    "Hand me a couple of kids and I'll show you" I said winningly, "come back in ten years and they'll be alive, I SWEAR". 
    I don't think they could find any children that needed minding that week so I didn't get to do that job.

    Eventually I did some dog walking, no one really interviews you for that and dogs don't talk. You can tie them up anywhere - anywhere!- as long as the General Public can't see, and have a sit-down, a bit of a snooze, anything really and get paid for it. The dogs are really grateful too, especially if you wear your cow outfit. They think you're trying to be their friend.

    But I missed the blogging, Mistress of my own domain, charting my own course, laying wherever I set my dogs, and I think I'm dead employable online; it's anonymous, you can't tell whether I passed the breathalyser and I have endless, endless inappropriate relatives. Lucky, lucky me.
    And lucky you for getting to join in.

    Thursday, 31 July 2014

    Will You Have Me Back?

    I know, I know, bloody fickle. You close one blog down four years ago, only to beg, weep, sob gently into your Pinot in sweeping gestures of contrition in hope, nay, prayer, that you'd have me back.

    I'll be good I swear. I'll post regularly, I'll give credit where credit's due - all hail Husband's underpants and general lack of hygiene for most of my fodder - and I'll fill you in down below with all the smutty innuendo you can swallow. 

    If, if, you'll take me back I will endeavour to give you a four to one smut ratio. 

    So, rather hoping the answer will be a yes, I'll make good on my first promise - see, I can be trusted*

    Here we go:

    Still smells
    Has learned to lift the toilet seat while spraying. We threw a party.
    Is working on the spraying using a kind of plastic bottle contraption he, Pokey, Stu and Bucket head worked on together.
    Is trying to patent his Spray-Away
    Decided to become vegetarian for a year until he discovered bacon is meat.
    Has switched from beer to cider for health reasons.
    Measures his bald spot in area rather than circumference and enjoys remarking on how long until he can feasibly buy a merkin.
    Has agreed to change his underpants at least every other day 
    Says hello to you all and would like me to remind you that he's four years older and therefore wiser. Quite.

    It turns out Twizzle is allergic to his own fur. It seems we picked the only self allergic, incontinent dog on the planet. Lucky, lucky me.
    Also, his ears drag in the water when he drinks out of his bowl and we have to peg his ears up with a clothes peg. Picture it.
    Also while I think of it, he humped the baby sitter last night. Just thought I'd share that, it's not really an update, rather a tally.

    IS TEN. TEN!! And away at pony camp learning about Really Expensive Hobbies and things you can buy to accessorise Really Expensive Hobbies. You can get bling stirrups and everything.
    Is bringing out a line in pony hair dye and non pierced hooped earrings.
    Continues to out smart, out cool and out socialise her mother.

    Is seven. I was going to put that in block capitals with an exclamation mark and everything but meh. Your second's way less exciting when hitting new ages. Sooo last season, as Isla would say.
    Has decided that he wants to be seven when he grows up and mistakes the black and white pony Isla rides for a cow.

    My Mother
    Still has a key to my house.
    Has decided to outwit Shirley-the-Competition this week by forgetting to water her plants for her while she's away. "that'll teach her to reach above her station and go to Istanbul" Sniff. My Mother pronounces Istanbul as Standing Bull.
    Asked Husband if he could get dad a merkin when he finally bought his.
    Still wears boots from the Transexual shop.

    Has found a new place for the porn mags. My Mother once took an interest in his potting shed and moved the seed trays. There were Words.
    Has started trying to work the internet.
    Has replaced his paint stirring stick with much mourning. He wore a black band for a week, with a playboy bunny appliqu├ęd at the side.
    Is talking to Barry Next Door again when they both lost to Clive From Down The Road in the Most Knobbly Cauliflower competition. They're working on a carrot-shaped beetroot prototype with an eye to a Most Hilarious Vegetable rosette.

    Millennium Housewife
    Continues the quest for stable sanity. It's all down to you.

    *Cannot be trusted

    Tuesday, 9 November 2010

    So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye

    It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Mother in possession of two children in school must be in want of a life. One that isn't virtual that is.
    So dear readers it is with some regret that I close this blog and attempt to find some kind of existence beyond the four walls of my kitchen, one hopefully with more padding than this kitchen chair I've been sitting on for the last three years.
    It's been wonderful knowing you all, I've made some great virtual and some non virtual friends, followed your adventures and laughed and cried with a lot of you.
    Rest assured I will still be haunting your blogs, I'll just comment anonymously, just to keep you all guessing...
    You'll forgive an old gal some indulgence won't you if I repost my four favourite ever posts? Call it nostalgia, call it blatant hooting about the glory years, call it plagiarism from the past. Whatever, just indulge me, there's a love.
    So long,
    MH xxxxxx