tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70541204865458504312024-02-19T04:52:01.834+00:00Millennium HousewifeIn the middle of the Midlands in the middle of her life in the middle of one husband, two children and a dog called Twizzle.Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.comBlogger149125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-9634781610907727172020-11-22T16:18:00.000+00:002020-11-22T16:18:06.290+00:00Notes On A VasectomyThe worst thing about leaving this blog alone for so many years is the lost opportunity to keep you all updated on the state of Husband's balls. Not the varied shaped and sized ones that he likes to hit around a golf course or yank off some poor child in pursuit of a Try. Nope, no siree, I mean the actual balls, the ones that produce fertile swimming things that resulted in an ENORMOUS AMOUNT OF PAIN for me. Yup, those balls.<div><br /></div><div>Older readers, oh loyal ones, will have followed the <i>hilarious antics</i> over our thirties as a vasectomy was contemplated. For you new readers I have been Generous and Organised and linked the three ball centred episodes at the bottom of this post so you can catch up. You're welcome.<br />
<br /> Anyway, it is a relieved and exhausted Millennium Housewife who gets to announce that he finally got them done, dramatically and not without a yelp, but he did it. God bless the ball surgeon.<br />
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It wasn't without its incidents. The trauma of having to Shave The Area began our day, with Husband asking if he could borrow my razors:<br />
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"<i>Women's are softer</i>" he wailed contemplating the pink handle and inflated price tag of my Gillette, "<i>they've got a moisturising strip,</i>"<i> </i>which they have<i>, </i>and do moisturise the first ten centimetres of my legs <i>perfectly.</i><br />
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There then followed an hour of <i>scrape, scrape ouch</i> as Husband attempted the tricky turns and twists rarely found on a chin or cheek and rendered himself bald in the place no-one should ever, <i>ever,</i> have to look at bald.<br />
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He walked out of the bathroom rather proudly, and surveyed himself in the mirror, Doomed from the get go, there they hung, like two bald sea urchins knocking together in a fisherman's net. He turned to clench each ginger-furred buttock in turn and flexed his arms, checking his biceps still worked. <div><br /></div><div><i>"Still male,"</i> he boomed to no one who was listening and sprayed himself with <i>Dove For Men. </i>He<i> </i>got dressed, more buoyant than bouffant which was pleasing.</div><div><br /></div><div>As we left the house we passed Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head, standing along the drive in a row of black armbanded mourning. Pokey carried a set of large, inflatable scissors and Stu was dressed as a nurse. I think Bucket Head had misunderstood the brief and was waving two gay flags enthusiastically and shouting encouraging words. </div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Aright Pokes!</i>" Yelled Husband, bravado abounding, <i>"want an autograph?"</i>, Pokey attempted to push the scissors crotchwards and Husband leapt nimbly aside, managing a quick wave, much in the manner of a celebrity. It was actually quite impressive and he bounced into the car all puffed and proud.</div><div><br /></div><div>This buoyancy lasted, ooh about the thirty minutes it took to drive to the ball lopping off clinic. Disappointingly the clinic was not as exciting as I make its sound. I had dreams you see dear Reader, that the ball clinic would be appropriately and elegantly appointed. A kind of advert if you will, for what goes on inside. Bricks and mortar shaped buttocks, scalpel shaped tiles anointing the roof, bandages for curtains and the hedges topiaried as flaccid, mournful penises. But no, it was boringly grey and square, the only excitement shown by the women, drinking champagne and toasting each other in a pop up tent on the lawn.</div><div><br /></div><div>Millennium Housewife had a <i>great</i> time, those women were brilliant. I have definitely made two new friends; they tell great jokes, drink champagne and generally make a day of it. I was only sorry I hadn't bought a cake.</div><div><br /></div><div>Husband emerged an hour and two bottles later, cheered drunkenly by Susan and Annie, my new friends. He drove us home (I'd had <i>way</i> too much champagne) gently, wincing around the corners.. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was like watching Twizzle come home from the vet all over again. Subdued and disorientated, Husband took himself to the sofa and spent the afternoon sitting on an inflatable with rugby and beer. </div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>They all look so male</i>" he whimpered, watching another scrum half do something rugbyish and getting himself up gingerly for another ball numbing beer. Credit where credit's due, he did manage the walk from sofa to beer fridge admirably well. It was slow though, and clumsy, like watching Lassie operate in a low oxygen environment.</div><div><br /></div><div>So there he sat, de-balled and mournful, for about a week, head hung and vitality lost. Until that is Pokey visited, hinting darkly that they may be closing the pub down since revenue had plummeted. Ever the superhero Husband mustered a large sigh and stood himself up to save the local. Managing a slight spring in his step he charged down the road, carrying his inflatable, Lassie to the rescue. My hero.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><b><i> Catch up on the ball play here</i></b><i>: Firstly in the naive and optimistic <a href="https://millenniumhousewife.blogspot.com/2007/11/to-snip-or-not-to-snip.html" target="_blank">To Snip or Not to Snip</a>, followed closely by a failed New Year's resolution to finally get them chopped in <a href="https://millenniumhousewife.blogspot.com/2009/02/cutting-ties-that-bind.html" target="_blank">Cutting The Ties That Bind </a>, and lastly the nail biter of an episode where you were left guessing whether the dog or Husband had finally succumbed to the scrape in <a href="https://millenniumhousewife.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-balls-please.html" target="_blank">New Balls Please</a>. I know you were all delighted for Husband when (spoiler alert) it turned out that it was Twizzle who had sacrificed his tubes in service of population control.</i></div><div><br /><div>
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<br /><br /></div></div></div></div>Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-42550288033798103742020-11-19T15:19:00.000+00:002020-11-19T15:19:35.857+00:00Things I Have Said To My Parents Today (Lockdown Special)<p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Hello?</li><li>Morning!</li><li>Mum?</li><li>It's me</li><li>Press the FaceTime button</li><li>The FaceTime button</li><li>Then we can see each other</li><li>Well done</li><li>Oh good lord</li><li>Put some clothes on</li><li>I don't care if it's as God intended</li><li>You didn't have to answer</li><li>I would have waited</li><li>Or called back</li><li>You don't need to get dad</li><li>Hi dad</li><li>Oh good lord</li><li>Put some clothes on</li><li>Can you at least sit down</li><li>Because I can see you</li><li>You're on the screen</li><li>My phone screen</li><li>Scratching</li><li>I can tell it's a rash</li><li>Turning your back doesn't mean I can't see</li><li>I am glad you've found your pants</li><li>They are nice yes</li><li>Perhaps you could put them on</li><li>Oh good lord</li><li>Mum doesn't need to help</li><li>I know your knee's stiff</li><li>Couldn't she put hers on first</li><li>I'm glad you've got a routine</li><li>I will be grateful when I'm old</li><li>I'll call you back</li></ul><p></p>Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564036200609185938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-33620251832782610502020-11-18T13:21:00.001+00:002020-11-18T13:21:43.918+00:00Books I Am Planning To Write (a Lockdown Special)<p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Lockdown 2020: <i>Dating via zoom, a Kama Sutra special</i></li><li>Lockdown 2020<i>: Zoom quizzes, and other ways to die slowly</i></li><li>Lockdown 2020 <i>reasons to be drunk by midday</i></li><li>Lockdown 2020 <i>And Spousal Murder: Why we need a change in the law Now</i></li><li>Lockdown 2020: <i>Fat is the new thin</i></li><li>Lockdown 2020: <i>Holidays in the rain, how to make it look fun for social media</i></li><li>Lockdown 2020: <i>Hygiene lapses, who needs all their teeth?</i></li><li>Lockdown 2020: <i>Hygiene Lapses #2, no one can smell you online</i></li><li>Lockdown 2020: <i>Hygiene Lapses </i>#3, <i>turn your screen off before you pick your nose</i></li><li>Lockdown 2020: <i>Essential Sign Language for You're on Mute (sign #1: I may murder you)</i></li></ul><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564036200609185938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-27643423330837113412019-05-21T14:00:00.000+01:002019-05-21T14:00:14.105+01:00Things I have Said To My Husband Today<br />
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<li>I'm sure you'll be fine</li>
<li>Hundreds of men get it done every day</li>
<li>Men just like you, yes</li>
<li>Every day</li>
<li>It's just a little op</li>
<li>You're not depriving the world</li>
<li>I'm sure we'll survive without your genes</li>
<li>You don't stand out</li>
<li>You're not a ginger marvel</li>
<li>You couldn't sell it for millions</li>
<li>I just don't think anyone would buy it</li>
<li>I did get it free</li>
<li>I am lucky, yes</li>
<li>And grateful</li>
<li>It is a good product</li>
<li>Millions of women won't be protesting</li>
<li>You're very welcome to freeze some</li>
<li>I really don't think so</li>
<li>I don't think the surgeon will be intimidated</li>
<li>Well she'll have seen it all before</li>
<li>Why wouldn't it be a she?</li>
<li>Surgeons are Shes and Hes</li>
<li>They are</li>
<li>She will be able to cope</li>
<li>It won't all be too much for her</li>
<li>She won't need a hand</li>
<li>Yes she'll be used to lifting heavy objects</li>
<li>I really don't think we need to warn her</li>
<li>I'm sure she's seen plenty of ginger foxes</li>
<li>Yes ones with biceps</li>
<li>Please stop demonstrating the biceps</li>
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Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-69054623109620551352019-05-08T09:30:00.003+01:002019-05-08T09:30:52.581+01:00Things I Have Said To My Husband Today<br />
<li>Yes, yes</li>
<li>It was a good wedding</li>
<li>Great party, yes</li>
<li>I did enjoy myself</li>
<li>Yes you were great</li>
<li>Life and soul of course</li>
<li>No, no</li>
<li>You were great</li>
<li>It's just</li>
<li>Well all that twerking</li>
<li>With dad</li>
<li>In mum's face</li>
<li>And mum joining in</li>
<li>And wiggling</li>
<li>And you all hugging</li>
<li>It is lovely that you bonded</li>
<li>I am happy that you like each other</li>
<li>Well</li>
<li>Did you have to wear dad's heels?</li>
<li>You have got lovely legs</li>
<li>Dad was jealous</li>
<li>You didn't rock the look</li>
<li>What?</li>
<li>I really don't think so</li>
<li>No shopping trips with dad</li>
Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-88294027457258696902019-04-30T13:52:00.001+01:002019-04-30T13:52:42.163+01:00How Husband met Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head.<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">I think it’s high time we looked further into the deep and binding relationships that Husband forms. He’s choosy, choosing only three of the best male specimens that beer money can buy. Obviously I’m talking about Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head the <i>Best Friends a Man Could Ask For,</i> which are my sentiments <i>exactly.</i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I would be disappointed in you all if you suspected in any way that Husband first met his dearest friends anywhere other than the pub. Because he did, <i>quel surprise. </i>Actually there<i> was</i> a tiny surprise in that Husband decided to try a different pub. This is like me trying a different bra, unheard of. The ones I know are comfy, familiar and serve things up on a tray. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So there we were, hesitating slightly at the entrance to this new territory, wondering whether the locals would welcome us, not sure whether we’d like it. We entered like any self respecting English couple; sideways, heads bowed enough to avoid eye contact but not enough to fall over something and Cause a Scene. We headed in the direction that our quick glances reassured us was the bar. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And there he was. There in all his glory, surrounded by a choice circle of chums, was Pokey; side on to us, standing sloppily near the bar, head tilted back, balancing a pork scratching on his top lip. This scene in its entirety would have been enough to get Husband hooked; you could see his heart beating out its special tune of man-love for this pork scratching balancing midget with a medallion round his neck. But being Pokey he went one better and flicked his head, and by result the scratching, into the air and caught it in his mouth. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Husband roared the kind of approval I’d hoped for at childbirth and marched across the pub floor to shake Pokey’s hand, simultaneously winking at the bar man for a beer and tapping his top lip to indicate a fresh supply of pork scratchings. English reserve forgotten in the height of this euphoria, Husband declared his love for Pokey in one sentence:</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“That, my man, deserves a drink”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Which it did, obviously. Husband had come home. What more could you ask for than a salty meatskin snack, a new best friend, a pint and a wife to drive you home. Nothing dear readers, absolutely Nothing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Except of course, like <i>City Slickers Two</i>, Pokey got better with a sequel. Just as Husband was about to present Pokey with a fresh challenge, a long, pale arm reached into the throng and placed, rather gracefully, a scratching on Pokey’s waiting, trembling lip. It had the touch of the lover about it, as Bucket Head loomed into sight. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Ere we are Pokes” yelled Bucket Head, “three in a row”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Pokey dutifully flicked and caught his scratching while Husband looked on, falling in love with every bead of perspiration on Pokey’s brow. Clutching his own bag of scratchings, eager to be the person to present Pokey with his next top lip challenge, he stepped forward uncertainly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“here we go” said slightly self consciously, placing the snack on Pokey’s top lip, quivering at the excitement of it all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Pokey paused, flicked, crunched. And history was made.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Obviously being the observer of this instant crush filled me with glee. Honestly, <i>glee</i>. What else would I like in my life than another Husband, one whose hygiene rating scored below a rat’s scrotum. What else indeed. I probably should have stopped there, counted my blessings that there was only Pokey and adopted him immediately. This being the preventative measure of him being attached to any other male in the world who would follow him anywhere. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This was stupid of me obviously. There were three of them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">We had yet to be introduced to Stu, he’d been in the toilet looking for pound coins for the fruit machine. He came through to the bar, shoes sticking to the floor as he stuffed his way into the circle of friends. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“This” said Pokey throwing his arm round Husband’s neck, “is Stu”, Husband shook Stu’s hand as Bucket Head nodded wildly, affirming helpfully that this was, in fact, Stu. Fabulous.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">There they stood, three goons and Husband, the pork snatching crumbs on Pokey’s face glistening in the gloaming of the pub lighting; Stu wiping his pound coins on his t-shirt and Bucket Head patting Husband’s arm in wonder, as if he’d just won a pet cow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Husband looked at me for the first time since we’d arrived.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“We’ve GOT to invite these guys back to ours” he said enthusiastically, “I can show them my mini putter”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Quite” I said, which in a pre-agreed ‘safe word’ discussion, Husband understood as <i>no, not in a million years</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Brilliant” he said and patted Bucket Head on the shoulder,</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Get your coats lads, you’ve pulled” he guffawed, delighted as Stu spat out his beer</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“I don’t think I’ve got room in the car” I said, “perhaps we could leave Pokey” (I am banking wildly here that no Pokey equals no Stu and Bucket Head).</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Husband looked askance at my lack of Quality Man detecting skills.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“He’s the BEST ONE,” he boomed spilling beer froth up his nostril, forgetting that he was in booming distance of Bucket Head, who looked mournfully at his beer. He seemed resigned to appearing the lesser talented, Pokey being the Pork Scratching balancer and all, and Stu earning so much money from the toilets.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Husband ushered the three of them in front of him like naughty children and shuffled them towards the door of the pub, out into the cold night air and the quiet of the night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Phwoar” yelled Husband, doing that rub of the hands up and down the arms thing that people do to show they’re cold, “don’t worry” he said to Pokey, maternally, “it’ll be warm at home and you can be first to have a go on the putter.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Warmed with promises of putter play the four men marched into the night, towards a night, <i>nay</i> a lifetime, of guffawing, insults, beer, pork scratching catching and slightly sticky hands while playing the fruit machine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Dear readers, it was Love.</span></div>
Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-28953866281096382632019-04-23T15:10:00.000+01:002019-04-23T15:10:04.727+01:00Things I have Said To My Parents Today<br />
<ul>
<li>Hiya</li>
<li>Helloo</li>
<li>Helooooo?</li>
<li>Anyone in?</li>
<li>Oh hi dad</li>
<li>Dad?</li>
<li>Are you OK?</li>
<li>Oh good</li>
<li>No it's just</li>
<li>You look a bit weird</li>
<li>Sitting on your own</li>
<li>Behind the breakfast bar</li>
<li>Kind of strained</li>
<li>And sweaty</li>
<li>Oh good lord Jesus christ</li>
<li>Hi mum</li>
<li>I didn't see you down there</li>
<li>No, no</li>
<li>Please</li>
<li>Stay there</li>
<li>Don't get up</li>
<li>Oh Christ</li>
<li>Don't do that</li>
<li>On the Princess Diana tea towel</li>
<li>I'm just going to go</li>
<li>I'm not a prude</li>
<li>Or embarrassed</li>
<li>Crikey dad</li>
<li>Leave the buckle</li>
<li>At least until I'm gone</li>
<li>No it's fine</li>
<li>I'll see you later</li>
<li>Please remember to wash the tea towel</li>
</ul>
Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564036200609185938noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-86229870350987069862019-04-21T20:25:00.003+01:002019-04-21T20:25:58.466+01:00House Guest<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Times; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">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 <i>appreciation</i> for the work and toil its has taken to get her to half of thirty. Oh Joy of Joy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>That</i> friend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So obviously we’re delighted that she’s come to stay.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">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 <i>inside</i> I’m thinking sarcastic things.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>‘Uh thanks mum, like your laces are never undone”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">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 <i>and I bent over and did them up.</i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Also, yesterday she boomed down the stairs:</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Where’s that shopping I left in the car?</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Did you bring it out of the car?</i> I asked in a needing more information, mild mannered way</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>No</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Well then it’s still in the car,</i> I said logically.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This earned me a hair toss and a look that said <i>your logic is old fashioned and out to get me, you dark overlord of the night. Lend me fifteen pounds to get over it.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i></i></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">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 <i>indeed</i>.</span></div>
Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07564036200609185938noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-82707997795351503012019-04-14T17:31:00.003+01:002019-04-14T17:45:28.993+01:00Things I Have Said To My Mother Today<ul>
<li>Oh hello</li>
<li>It's nice that you remembered</li>
<li>No no party, just a cake</li>
<li>Next Saturday</li>
<li>What would I like?</li>
<li>I don't really need presents</li>
<li>What do you mean oh good?</li>
<li>Have you nothing in mind?</li>
<li>You're what?</li>
<li>Say that slowly</li>
<li>How are you leaving your head to medical science?</li>
<li><i>For my birthday</i></li>
<li>I know I said I didn't really need presents</li>
<li>But for my birthday</li>
<li>I'm sure it will be very interesting</li>
<li>And full of useful information</li>
<li>You have kept it pristine</li>
<li>They will love your cake recipes </li>
<li>You do have a lot of good ideas</li>
<li>I'm just not sure I want your head for my birthday</li>
<li>Unless it's imminent</li>
<li>JOKE</li>
<li>Honestly it was a joke</li>
<li>I am taking it seriously</li>
<li>You're right it's just like adopting a goat</li>
<li>Except this is your head</li>
<li>I'm sure they will have seen nothing quite like it</li>
<li>I'm glad you're excited</li>
</ul>
Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-81951701791575089092019-04-10T16:31:00.000+01:002019-04-16T15:59:20.597+01:00Things I Have Said To My Husband Today<ul>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Just remember what we talked about</span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">I’m only reminding you</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">In case you forget</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">You promised to be nice </span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Nice</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">As in say nice things, don’t insult My Mother</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Because it’s her birthday</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">And they’ve agreed to come here for lunch</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">It is a big deal</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">They haven’t been here since you showed her that rude cucumber</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">The rude one</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Yes the one you waggled</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">It was the way you waggled it</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Well sort of up and down</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">And suggested lube</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">So it’s a big deal they’re coming</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">What special present</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">From you</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Oh that’s SO nice</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Thank you so much</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s a what</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">A burqua?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><i></i></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Full face?</i></span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">You can’t give My Mother a burqua for her birthday</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">It will not improve her looks</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">It won’t help you eat</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">I’m sorry about your nausea</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">You simply can’t</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">Dad won’t agree</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">What do you mean he went halves?</span></span></li>
</ul>
Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-71228026079283641882019-04-09T18:36:00.000+01:002019-04-09T18:36:01.081+01:00The Dog Is Incontinent<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Times; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">So Twizzle is incontinent.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">I should just leave it there really.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">It only adds to his charm obviously. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">The thing is, he wasn’t that incontinent until we got chickens, just when My Mother visited, it was kind of their <i>special thing</i>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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 <i>educating experience</i> for the kids, one that includes regular cleaning out and Responsibility.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Yup, chickens were the way to go. Easy peasy.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">To date they have cost us a million pounds. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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 <i>putting your finger up the chicken’s bottom and turning the outside bottom inside.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">I will type that again: <i>putting your finger up the chicken’s bottom and turning the outside bottom inside.</i> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Which fell to me. Husband said that he’d try but the girth of his fingers would be uncomfortable for the chicken. Quite.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">And then it popped out again, like a pink, accusatory turd.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">A which point he wee’d all over the floor and hasn’t stopped.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">So now we have four chickens, no eggs, a rabbit hutch and an incontinent dog.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Any thoughts on hamsters? </span>Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-31746696281115972972014-08-31T11:41:00.000+01:002014-08-31T11:41:03.449+01:00Things I have Said To My Husband Today<br />
<ul>
<li>Oooh thanks</li>
<li>Lovely</li>
<li>I do love my birthday</li>
<li>No no that's fine</li>
<li>Lots of little ones are great</li>
<li>I don't need a big present</li>
<li>Hmmm</li>
<li>I wonder what it is</li>
<li>Oh</li>
<li>Err</li>
<li>Lovely</li>
<li>Yes I know</li>
<li>I know I need a new mug</li>
<li>It's great</li>
<li>It's </li>
<li>Just</li>
<li>Well</li>
<li>It's pink</li>
<li>And got a willy for a handle</li>
<li>I'm sure you did have a laugh</li>
<li>I'm glad you enjoyed shopping</li>
<li>For the first time</li>
<li>Yes yes</li>
<li>What a funny shop girl</li>
<li>I bet she does have great taste</li>
<li>And loves willy mugs</li>
<li>But</li>
<li>Well</li>
<li>What do I do when friends come over</li>
<li>And they see me with a willy mug</li>
<li>Oh</li>
<li>I see</li>
<li>All of them?</li>
<li>Six?</li>
<li>I do like matching sets yes</li>
<li>It will be a talking point</li>
<li>I do like lots of presents</li>
<li>I just didn't think they'd be willy themed</li>
<li>Should I expect willy mugs in every present?</li>
<li>Excellent</li>
<li>Excellent</li>
<li>So there's nothing else?</li>
<li>Oh</li>
<li>Ok</li>
<li>I'd love one last surprise</li>
<li>I'm glad you're excited</li>
<li>Yes I'm excited too</li>
<li>Hmmm</li>
<li>I wonder what it is</li>
<li>Oooh</li>
<li>A sleeping bag</li>
<li>Yes I did need a new one</li>
<li>It's just</li>
<li>Well</li>
<li>It's in the shape of a willy</li>
<li>Yes I do appreciate the theming</li>
<li>It will be lovely and warm</li>
<li>What do you mean that's not all?</li>
<li>What else could there possibly be?</li>
<li>Oh</li>
<li>I see</li>
<li>I'm glad you got one too</li>
<li>Yes it will be fun camping</li>
<li>We will look good</li>
<li>Ohh even better</li>
<li>Yes that's certainly the best bit</li>
<li>I'm really glad they zip together</li>
<li>Excellent</li>
<li>Yes I get the joke</li>
<li>Two peas in a pod wasn't exactly what came to mind</li>
<li>You're right</li>
<li>I am the luckiest wife ever</li>
<li>I can't wait to go camping</li>
</ul>
Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-59652033445143476832014-08-22T13:24:00.000+01:002014-08-22T13:24:52.857+01:00Things I Have said To My Husband Today<ul>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">That’s lovely</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Thank you</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes I do</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I do love being on holiday</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">With you</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Of course I like being with you</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Well</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Because</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Well</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We’re married</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And that’s what married people do</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">What do you mean bored?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Why would I get bored/</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Who’s bored?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Ah</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Right</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Ok</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Well</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">What would you like to do?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">What football?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In Spain?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Oh</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Well</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Ok</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Just this once</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You’re not doing me a favour</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I don’t need you out of my hair</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You’re not very annoying</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes even when you dance</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Please don’t dance</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I like your jokes</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Inappropriate is good</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">No</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">No I haven’t wished you had someone to play with</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Waiting for what mates?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We’re in Spain</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You don’t know anyone in Spain</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So you don’t have any mates</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You’ve what?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Invited who?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">What do you mean I’m welcome?</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Oh good Lord Jesus Christ</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes I hear it</span></span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Go and open the door then</span></span></li>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><b>Things I Have Said to Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head Today</b></span></div>
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<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Oh</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Hi guys</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Lovely to see you too</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">No thanks</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">No thanks Bucket Head</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I can do my own suncream</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Really</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Well I tend to yes</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Well always</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I always wear a bikini top</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">No</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I never take it off</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Not even now</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I know we’re in Europe</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I don’t mind looking like a tourist</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I don’t mind standing out</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Please stop nudging each other</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And grinning</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Standing out is not a funny phrase</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Very mature Pokey</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Pretending to have boobs is a classic I agree</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You’re all very funny</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Here you go</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">All of you</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It’ll get you an ice cream</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes you can spend it on beer</span></li>
<li style="font-family: Helvetica; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Now go and watch the football</span></li>
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Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-35016469489320983972014-08-04T10:18:00.000+01:002014-08-04T10:18:17.049+01:00Things I Have Said To My Father Today<br />
<li>Hi Dad</li>
<li>It's me</li>
<li>Fine thanks</li>
<li>Yes, yes fine</li>
<li>All fine yes thanks</li>
<li>No I don't want to speak to mum</li>
<li>Well, you</li>
<li>Ok</li>
<li>Well</li>
<li>Err</li>
<li>Right</li>
<li>Um </li>
<li>Well a package arrived addressed to you</li>
<li>At my house</li>
<li>Oh right</li>
<li>Glad you're not surprised</li>
<li>Oh that's lovely of you</li>
<li>Well I suppose surprises are nice yes</li>
<li>Mum does love surprises</li>
<li>Especially on her birthday</li>
<li>Well anything would beat the trowel you bought her last year</li>
<li>Or the comb from the year before</li>
<li>Yes she does use it daily</li>
<li>On the cat</li>
<li>The Internet is magic yes</li>
<li>All sorts of things</li>
<li>Excellent</li>
<li>I'm glad you're having such fun with it</li>
<li>And enjoying ordering surprises</li>
<li>It's just</li>
<li>Just</li>
<li>Well could you come and get it sometime</li>
<li>Before her birthday</li>
<li>Well I'm very sorry for ruining the surprise</li>
<li>But it's been sitting on the mantlepiece</li>
<li>And vibrating</li>
<li>And Jack asked me all about it</li>
<li>And made a rrrr ing noise</li>
<li>Well I said that you'd ordered a razor</li>
<li>And then it vibrated off the mantlepiece and the packaging split</li>
<li>Yes I did like the colour</li>
<li>Very nice</li>
<li>Well a sort of purply pink I suppose</li>
<li>It does suit mum's colouring yes</li>
<li>Could you come and get it?</li>
<li>It's just not suitable here</li>
<li>I left it on the floor</li>
<li>Rrrrr ing</li>
<li>Would<i> you</i> want to touch it?</li>
<li>Oh good lord</li>
<li>I don't need details thanks</li>
<li>I know we're all grown ups</li>
<li>No thanks</li>
<li>I really don't want to try one</li>
<li>It's not an investment </li>
<li>My future happiness is fine</li>
<li>I don't care if there's a sale</li>
<li>I don't feel I'm missing out</li>
<li>Honestly</li>
<li>How's what going?</li>
<li>What do you mean <i>in that department?</i></li>
<li>We're fine</li>
<li>I won't thank you in the future</li>
<li>Please don't suppose anything</li>
<li>Or make suggestions</li>
<li>He won't look at me with new eyes</li>
<li>No more details please</li>
<li>Could you just come and get it</li>
<li>Please</li>
<li>Ok</li>
<li>Fine</li>
<li>I'll think about it</li>
<li>I know how to work the internet thanks</li>
<li>I'll look it up</li>
<li>Yes I promise</li>
<li>And we'll never, ever mention this again.</li>
Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-78749028577019393772014-08-01T11:15:00.000+01:002014-08-01T11:15:57.345+01:00Old Kid On The BlockCrikey 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.<br />
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.<br />
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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:<br />
<i>"Haven't you got even teeth"</i><br />
To be fair she had got really really straight teeth, but this was in answer to the question "<i>is this your puppy?" </i>Which it was, so I should have just said<i> yes and would you like a stroke? Of the puppy not me hahahah - </i>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?)<br />
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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.<br />
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I did try and lighten the dinner up by taking up the captain's hat and spreading my arms out wing-like and singing <i>My Heart Will Go On </i>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, <i>"wearing this </i>(tugging at cow costume) <i>and only this" </i>Flutter flutter, simper. So that was the end of my interpretative dance career.<br />
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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 <i>they're</i> alive, and I've had one of them for ten years, speaks for itself really.<br />
"<i>Hand me a couple of kids and I'll show you" </i>I said winningly, <i>"come back in ten years and they'll be alive, I SWEAR". </i><br />
I don't think they could find any children that needed minding that week so I didn't get to do that job.<br />
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Eventually I did some dog walking, no one really interviews you for that and dogs don't talk. You can tie them up anywhere - <i>anywhere!-</i> 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.<br />
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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.<br />
And <i style="font-weight: bold;">lucky you</i> for getting to join in.<br />
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<br />Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-19178284748532424472014-07-31T19:04:00.001+01:002014-07-31T19:04:50.594+01:00Will You Have Me Back?<div style="text-align: center;">
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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, <i>nay</i>, <i>prayer, </i>that you'd have me back.</div>
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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. </div>
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If, <i>if, </i>you'll take me back I will endeavour to give you a four to one smut ratio. </div>
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So, rather hoping the answer will be a yes, I'll make good on my first promise - see, I can be trusted*</div>
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Here we go:</div>
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<u>Husband</u></div>
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Still smells</div>
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Has learned to lift the toilet seat while spraying. We threw a party.</div>
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Is working on the spraying using a kind of plastic bottle contraption he, Pokey, Stu and Bucket head worked on together.</div>
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Is trying to patent his Spray-Away</div>
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Decided to become vegetarian for a year until he discovered bacon is meat.</div>
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Has switched from beer to cider for health reasons.</div>
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Measures his bald spot in area rather than circumference and enjoys remarking on how long until he can feasibly buy a merkin.</div>
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Has agreed to change his underpants <i>at least every other day </i></div>
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Says hello to you all and would like me to remind you that he's four years older and therefore wiser. Quite.</div>
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<u>Twizzle</u></div>
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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.</div>
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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.</div>
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<i>Also</i> 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.</div>
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<u>Isla</u></div>
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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.</div>
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Is bringing out a line in pony hair dye and non pierced hooped earrings.<br />
Continues to out smart, out cool and out socialise her mother.<br />
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<u>Jack</u><br />
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.<br />
Has decided that he wants to be seven when he grows up and mistakes the black and white pony Isla rides for a cow.<br />
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<u>My Mother</u><br />
Still has a key to my house.<br />
Has decided to outwit Shirley-the-Competition this week by forgetting to water her plants for her while she's away.<i> "that'll teach her to reach above her station and go to Istanbul" </i>Sniff. My Mother pronounces Istanbul as Standing Bull.<br />
Asked Husband if he could get dad a merkin when he finally bought his.<br />
Still wears boots from the Transexual shop.<br />
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<u>Dad</u><br />
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.<br />
Has started trying to work the internet.<br />
Has replaced his paint stirring stick with much mourning. He wore a black band for a week, with a playboy bunny appliquéd at the side.<br />
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.<br />
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<u>Millennium Housewife</u><br />
Continues the quest for stable sanity. It's all down to you.<br />
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*Cannot be trusted</div>
Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-84331287994172165422010-11-09T20:50:00.000+00:002010-11-09T20:51:19.075+00:00So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, GoodbyeIt 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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />Rest assured I will still be haunting your blogs, I'll just comment anonymously, just to keep you all guessing...<br />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.<br />So long,<br />MH xxxxxxMillennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-34420246012686132092010-11-09T20:02:00.005+00:002010-11-09T20:23:33.797+00:00Things I have said To My Parents Today<ul><br /><br /><li>Ooh thankyou</li><li>Happy early Christmas to you too </li><li>I like the wrapping </li><li>Shall I guess? </li><li>Ok </li><li>Err </li><li>Well it doesn't rattle </li><li>It's squareish </li><li>It's quite light </li><li>I'm guessing a book </li><li>Shall I open it? </li><li>Excellent </li><li>I wonder what it is </li><li>Yes I was right, a book </li><li>Sex As You Age? </li><li><em>Sex As You Age? </em></li><li>What do you mean I'm quite welcome? </li><li>It may well have got you through some tough times</li><li>But I'm in my thirties </li><li><em>My Thirties</em> </li><li>I'm not aging </li><li>Or in need of an elderly person's sex manual </li><li>Oh crikey </li><li>There's notes in the margin </li><li>Especially for me? </li><li>Was this your book? </li><li>Dad please don't say <em>Ours</em> like that </li><li>While putting your arm round mum </li><li>Because I'm holding your sex manual </li><li>And sitting next to you</li><li>And trying desperately to think of something pleasant </li><li>And Christmassy </li><li>And not look at the chapter entitled Arthritis Of The Knee And You </li><li>Dad </li><li>Stop winking at mum </li><li>Put your hands where I can see them </li><li>Both of you </li><li>I'm taking away the sherry </li><li>No you can't have it back at bedtime </li><li>Because we're in the room next to you </li><li>And I can see you've put your knee bandage on </li><li>Yes of course safety comes first </li><li>But so does your daughter's mental health</li><li>I'm sure you do have a book on that too </li><li>But really </li><li>No more books OK </li><li>Because my nerves can't take it </li><li>No thanks</li><li>I don't want my other present</li><li>Because it looks suspiciosly like a pot of chocolate </li><li>And a box of knee bandages<br /><a id="publishButton" class="cssButton" onclick="if (this.className.indexOf("ubtn-disabled") == -1) {var e = document['stuffform'].publish;(e.length) ? e[0].click() : e.click(); if (window.event) window.event.cancelBubble = true; return false;}" href="javascript:void(0)" target=""><br /></a><br /><a id="saveButton" class="cssButton" onclick="if (this.className.indexOf("ubtn-disabled") == -1) {var e = document['stuffform'].saveDraft;(e.length) ? e[0].click() : e.click(); if (window.event) window.event.cancelBubble = true; return false;}" href="javascript:void(0)" target=""><br /></li></ul></a>Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-8722251882076491292010-11-09T19:58:00.003+00:002010-11-09T20:25:27.362+00:00Things I Have Said To My Husband Today<ul><br /><li>Ooh, yes I'd love a night out tonight</li><li>What do you mean just you?</li><li>But I do like them</li><li>I love Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head</li><li>Oh</li><li>Right</li><li>Of course I want you to have a good night</li><li>I know Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head don't have girlfriends</li><li><em>Apart from each other</em></li><li>Nothing, sorry</li><li>I didn't say anything I just coughed</li><li>Will you be coming home after?</li><li>Are you sure you don't want to stay at Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head's</li><li>Yes of course I want you to come home</li><li>Well you only have to sleep in the spare room if you snore</li><li>I know you snore when you're drunk</li><li>So you're guaranteeing that you're going to snore?</li><li>Well then it'll have to be the spare room</li><li>Because I have to get up with the children</li><li>What do you mean where will Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head sleep?</li><li>Invited them here?</li><li>After a night in the pub?</li><li>Hmm</li><li>Well OK then</li><li>Could you just make sure you all throw up in the toilet?</li><li>I know there was a queue but the wok's just never been the same</li><li>OK I'll put buckets out</li><li>Send my love to Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head</li></ul>Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-80239256285813251552010-11-09T19:52:00.004+00:002010-11-09T20:25:38.422+00:00Husband FluThis post was going to be entitled 'man flu', not very original I know but could we really get through the Winter without reporting on this annual epidemic of such grave proportions that it results in so many near death encounters? Indeed it would be scandalous to ignore it, heartless even when we consider just how much our men folk have been through.<br /><br />Luckily none of them, despite predictions, assurances (promises even) and some evidence to the contrary, have passed away. We emerge once again unscathed by such suffering (them), and a little scathed by such ministering (us) and of course the worry.<br /><br />Husband's flu started about the time he first needed to blow his nose. It was a scary moment obviously, something was wrong with him, he might even feel poorly or, heaven's above need to go to the doctor's. In fact if a visit to The Scary Man was nigh the best thing to do, of course, was to take himself to bed and nurse himself until he was completely better to avoid such an encounter.<br /><br />The best thing about me, thought Husband, is that I make absolutely no fuss, in fact no one will even know I'm here. Unless I get really ill you understand. Yup, I understood. He sat in bed like a small boy in an Enid Blyton story, special striped pyjamas on (kept from his childhood and saved for the really serious cases), knees drawn up and duvet up to his chin. There was a weak smile as I entered the sick room with a cup of tea which he bravely sipped while quite hot. I had blown on it like he'd asked, but still, it was brave. I placed a box of tissues on the bedside table and a bucket as requested just in case. Then I duly went downstairs for the forgotten items (hot water bottle, Lemsip, cough drops and a newspaper in case his head felt up to reading). Yes, he was a little trouper, no one but me knew he was ill, and he was nursing himself through it in his own way. Of course he was too ill to get up and actually nurse himself, so I had to do it but the thought was there, he whispered weakly.<br /><br />It was a long afternoon for him, tea made his nose runnier so warm honey was duly administered, the hot water bottle was tricky to keep at just the right temperature despite him checking it on his thermometer, and the TV just wasn't up to scratch. He got through it somehow and struggled to bedtime managing a bowl of soup and chocolate pudding before checking the water bottle temperature and falling asleep next to me, exhausted.<br /><br />In bed that night he proceeded to groan as loudly as possible and thrash about wildly as he tried to deal with his flu. Every nose blowing event was performed accompanied by an expletive and a comment on how much he wasn't sleeping and how long to go until I had to get up. If I had managed to go to sleep between these events then I was sure to be awoken by loud retching noises away from the bucket as a demonstration of what might possibly happen were he to feel sick and I had missed the warning signs.<br /><br />By 2am I had had enough, he'd only used up one tissue all day and the 'sweat' patches were really spilled Lemsip. Risking a lifetime of references to my uncaring nature and pub near-death stories that I had no authority to refute so he could embellish at will, I moved to the spare room. I did explain to him why, but all he could reply was that he could see a bright light and should he go towards it?<br /><br />The dread of a cold bed and having to clean the guest sheets tomorrow were no deterrent to the thought of a decent few hours before getting up with the children. It was bliss, heaven, worth the lifetime's condemnation. For a while. He missed me you see, it may be his last night of sleeping next to me and wouldn't it be lovely to savour the moment? I felt the bed springs sink as he dragged himself into bed beside me. The groanings were louder this time although giving him the warm bit of the bed went some way to soothing them. The retching continued until the bucket was brought from our room and then almost ceased. We watched dawn rise together thankful that he'd survived the night.<br /><br />I sent him to the doctors the next day, tail between his legs, deaf to his protestations that all he needed was a few more days of TLC. He emerged from the surgery triumphant and euphoric. The doctor had sympathised, hadn't asked him to remove any clothing and best of all given him a prescription for Strepsils.Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-43952001028880473492010-11-09T19:48:00.004+00:002010-11-09T20:25:52.037+00:00One DayOne day I will have a small car again. One that only fits me and the occasional passenger and is clean, shiny and hand print free <em>at all times</em>.<br /><br />One day I will go with my husband on a second honeymoon (for two), wake with the sun high in the sky, get ridiculously and dizzyingly drunk at lunch time and go straight to bed until the next morning.<br /><br />One day my house will stay the way I left it, not mysteriously mess up the minute I turn my back.<br /><br />One day I will pop out to the shops - and I mean pop - and be finished in five minutes. I may even treat myself to a basket rather than a trolley-for-three and queue up giddily in the baskets only aisle.<br /><br />One day I will go to all the shops in my village and buy elegant things for dinner, stopping to chat or for a coffee at leisure. I will be able to fit myself (because there is only myself and no pram) into every tiny specialist shop, smug and happy that I'm 'buying locally'.<br /><br />One day I will have a cup of tea during nap time without the tension that someone may wake at any minute and ruin the moment. In fact I may even have a set cup-of-tea-time that I adhere to religiously just because I can.<br /><br />One day my children will refer to me as That Mad Old Bat or The Parental Guidance rather than Mummy Can I Have and I will be pleased at my eccentricities and lack of responsibility.<br /><br />One day I will actually go on a 'date night' (ha ha ha, did anyone really believe they would ever get to do that?) with my husband without the little knot of tension that everything's alright at home.<br /><br />One day my kitchen will be my own, the high chair, mini chair-and-table set and play mat will be gone and I will dance a waltz with my husband around our own elegant dining table in all the space.<br /><br />One day my day will end when I want it to, possibly as late as 11pm, rather than at 3pm when I start thinking about school pick up and tea.<br /><br />One day evenings will be for relaxing, possibly a glass of wine or even the cinema, not getting-ready-for-the-morning, ironing, sandwiches and signing notes.<br /><br />One day I will sleep all night long without nightmares/coughs/toilets/monsters to wake me.<br /><br /><br /><br />But<br /><br /><br /><br />One day the house will be ever so quiet, I will be able to whisper to myself and hear the echo.<br /><br />One day strangers won't smile at me on the street, pause and say; isn't she/he lovely, envious of my status, my life, my treasures.<br /><br />One day I won't get up to two smiling faces, ever so pleased that I'm awake and ready to play.<br /><br />One day the worry will be further away and thus more scary and less controllable.<br /><br />One day my tea break will be interrupted by the phone ringing, and it will be one of the children and I shall be very very glad.<br /><br />One day my heart won't burst with pride every morning just for the existence of another human being.<br /><br />One day the feeling of a tiny hand slipping into mine, skipping and pulling at it while I go, will be a distant, precious memory hard to grasp and pin down.<br /><br />One day tiny clothes and underwear that are so cute your heart skips will be missing from my washing line, my ironing pile.<br /><br />One day I will wish for little cold feet and snuffly noses to creep into bed with me. I may even wake in the night thinking they have only to find it was a dream.<br /><br />One day I won't be a hero, a queen, the focus and meaning in my children's lives. Just an ordinary person living invisibly.<br /><br />One day life will be for filling, but not necessarily fulfilling, not in the same way anyway.<br /><br /><br /><br />Until grandchildren.Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-91446729984491188342010-11-05T12:37:00.009+00:002010-11-05T14:10:15.610+00:00Position Of The MonthThese were my resolutions this week: Be Useful, Get A Job, Make A Difference. It's now Friday and I've just finished all the facebooking I needed to do and eaten the Halloween sweets that I hid from the kids so I really ought to get down to some work. Thank God it's the weekend tomorrow, I'm bushed.<br />Talking of bushed, I did come across something the other day that may solve all three problems in one, fancy that! <em>And</em> with very little effort (my favourite kind of job).<br />I was flicking through one of my (pre teen) cousin's magazines and there, in full blazing glory was a column entitled 'Position Of The Month.' This is not, dear puritan readers, an illustration of a likely position in order to prevent backache during long exams, or even, oh naive one, of a useful career position, one that includes the word doctor or lawyer. Of no, this was as in sex position, you know, like the one Playboy runs, they must have stolen the idea the swines. Note to Mr Heffner: please sue pre teen magazines before they steal any more of your ideas, (also personal note: please buy longer dressing robe type thing, I can see your willy every time you wear it, many thanks).<br />Obviously I'm not shocked, of course I wasn't, I'm a woman of the world, a pre teen me read Bunty and Twinkle, well, now they've grown up. I did think though, that therein I may not only find my new career, but also a way to be useful. You see, these pictures were of real life couples in certain ahem, positions. Well, I could do that! Easily. Just watch (or not, there's no test at the end of this).<br />I could pitch to the magazine a brand new column, one entitled 'Labour Positions Of The Month', this dear readers would not only earn me a bit of money and find a use for my now defunct vagina, but it would also contribute significantly to the lowering of the teenage pregnancy rate. The thought of stuffing a doll up there, even if it was good for the nation, puts me off a little but still, you've got to take the rough with the smooth (as I shall wisely tell the nation's teenage girls).<br />Think about it - it's genius (and please forget all the other genius things I've proposed on this blog, this is the Real Deal, I'm in the zone!), money and usefulness for me, less babies for the under thirteens! It's brilliant! It's marvellous! It's something I may have to persuade Husband about.<br />But still, I'm sure he'll come round, especially when I tell him about the awards I've been given, one's for services to humanity and all that. They could even put my labour pictures on milk cartons and things like they do with missing kids in America, that'll put them off their coco pops/copulation/dolls.<br />It is indeed an idea for Humanity, one that may yet get me the knighthood I feel I so deserve. In fact if any of you feel the need, nay, the <em>urge</em> to nomintae me next time you see the queen please do, be sure to mention the milk carton idea.Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-62368504217247198042010-10-27T18:06:00.003+01:002010-10-27T18:45:23.573+01:00Thirty Nine Reasons Not To Get A Cat<ol><li>Because you already have a dog</li><li>A mental one</li><li>With a possible eating disorder</li><li>Who still hasn't forgiven you for removing his balls</li><li>Or calling him Twizzle</li><li>They eat food that smells like a toilet</li><li>They have a toilet in your kitchen</li><li>Even the dog isn't allowed a toilet in the kitchen</li><li>Even Husband isn't allowed a toilet in the kitchen</li><li>Despite what he thinks</li><li>You are expected to clean up their toilet</li><li>Never ever Husband</li><li>They sleep on your feet peacefully</li><li>Until you are asleep</li><li>Then they eat your head</li><li>Never ever Husband's head</li><li>Who insists you are paranoid</li><li>They need their gonads removing</li><li>They have spent the night locked in the kitchen with the dog</li><li>Who has had his gonads removed</li><li>And told them the whole sorry tail</li><li>And pointed out that animals are the only males in the household to have their gonads removed</li><li>Husband still has to get his done</li><li>Despite what he may think</li><li>They attempt to mate each other</li><li>They are brothers</li><li>They attempt to mate the dog</li><li>Which is ill advised</li><li>Just ask next door's cat</li><li>Once his head brace is removed</li><li>They never ever come when you call them</li><li>They do what suits them</li><li>They look at you with contempt</li><li>They eat all your food</li><li>And never thank you</li><li>They resemble the rest of the family </li><li>Because you would have liked a parakeet</li><li>One that said thankyou</li><li>And maybe came with gonads pre removed</li></ol>Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-29926863961560790382010-10-08T10:16:00.003+01:002010-10-08T10:31:04.899+01:00Things I Have Said To My Husband Today<ul><li>Uuggghhhhhh</li><li>Huh?</li><li>Oh</li><li>Hi darling</li><li>Did you have a good night?</li><li>A very good night from the looks of it</li><li>Ummmm</li><li>Darling</li><li>It's 2am</li><li>I'm asleep</li><li>Night</li><li>Errr</li><li>Sweetheart</li><li>Can you move the kebab off my pillow?</li><li>That one</li><li>That kebab</li><li>The one spilling ketchup everywhere</li><li>Oh</li><li>Right</li><li>That's really kind of you</li><li>Thankyou</li><li>Yes I love my kebab</li><li>It's really kind of you</li><li>I do appreciate it</li><li>It's just that it's 2am</li><li>Can't I eat it in the morning?</li><li>I do love you</li><li>Yes I really do feel how much you love me</li><li>I do want the kebab</li><li>I love you and I love the kebab</li><li>I do hear how much you love me</li><li>Yes I really really love you too</li><li>I do mean it</li><li>I do appreciate the kebab</li><li>Ok just one bite</li><li>because I love you</li><li>See?</li><li>I love you</li><li>Because I'm sitting up at 2am eating a cold kebab</li><li>Did you have a great night?</li><li>How were Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head?</li><li>Oh good</li><li>Any sign of a girlfriend?</li><li>Or a shower?</li><li>Oh </li><li>Never mind</li><li>Did you hear that noise?</li><li>That noise</li><li>That scraping sound</li><li>It's what?</li><li>What?</li><li>Here?</li><li>Pokey, Stu and Bucket Head</li><li>Well where have you put them</li><li>Outside our door?</li><li>On the floor</li><li>So they can hear everything</li></ul><p><strong>Things I Have Said To Pokey, Stu And Bucket Head Tonight</strong></p><ul><li>Errr</li><li>Hi Guys</li><li>Good night?</li><li>Excellent</li><li>Excellent</li><li>Oh thanks</li><li>Yes lovely</li><li>I'm really glad you thought to bring me a kebab</li><li>Yummy</li><li>I am eating it</li><li>Yes I love my kebab</li><li>And I love you all</li><li>Yes I can feel how much you all love me</li><li>Yes I love you too</li><li>Even you Bucket Head, yes</li><li>Um</li><li>Well</li><li>It's just</li><li>Could I ask that you all put some clothes on?</li><li>Left them where?</li><li>Well yes,</li><li>It was very thoughtful</li><li>No I wouldn't have liked muddy clothes walking through the house</li><li>Leaving them outside was a good idea, yes</li><li>It's just</li><li>Well</li><li>Maybe you could have remembered to take your shoes off too</li><li>And left your pants on</li></ul><p> </p>Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7054120486545850431.post-47940467648749075972010-09-21T10:21:00.003+01:002010-09-21T10:35:54.089+01:00Thirty Two Ways To Get Your Boot Camp Instructor To Give You Ten Press Ups<ol><li>Pretend not to hear when he yells through his loud speaker</li><li>Call a taxi mid session</li><li>Offer everyone free Starbucks if they stage a sit in with you</li><li>Complain</li><li>About Anything</li><li>Even lack of refreshments</li><li>Especially about lack of refreshments</li><li>Refuse to 'wake your butt' by slapping it vigorously and with passion</li><li>Enquire about the need for passion when slapping butt</li><li>Refuse to slap your butt in front of three teenage boys</li><li>Joke about slapping other people's butts</li><li>Slapping other people's butts</li><li>Making up what you ate last night</li><li>Arguing that chocolate is raw and therefore counts</li><li>Agreeing to work hard and smirking</li><li>Smirking</li><li>Laughing when doing the plank</li><li>Talking when doing the plank</li><li>Telling jokes when doing the plank</li><li>Not concentrating when doing the plank</li><li>Not taking the plank seriously</li><li>Doing the plank badly</li><li>Failing in plank performing</li><li>Bringing gin to a session</li><li>Swapping instructors Evian for gin</li><li>Laughing at gin spitting</li><li>Producing tonic water </li><li>And an ice bucket</li><li>Taking a picture of instructor swigging gin</li><li>Refusing to hand over your camera</li><li>Posting gin swigging on facebook</li><li>Writing expose stylee blog posts</li></ol>Millennium Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11828746856608057335noreply@blogger.com15