And he is a generous bastard.

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But her his mother can’t cook turkey for shit. Dry, fucking indigestible strings of wood chip goodness. She Santa needed the reminder of why she he cooked Christmas dinner every year since she he was 19.

And has no memory of Christmas dinner as a child. Was probably Apricot chicken…..

Santa has amazing powers. He managed to walk shit snow all over my carpet. From the North Pole. On the other side of the world. Fucking amazing.

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Pity he can’t make the plastic wrapping around the toys disappear….

But he is not so amazing that he can stop the plague of men everywhere. Male pattern baldness. Fucker left whiskers everywhere.

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And apparently his teeth aren’t too good either, cause there is a half bitten homemade truffle left on the plate. Must be his teeth, cause he would have loved it. Cause I am they were awesome.

The kids were beside themselves with their Christmas gifts. The last thing Boo said last night was:

‘Will Santa bring Hyperdash?’

Me: ‘Well he will if you have been a good boy!’

Boo: ‘I am…. now.’

The first thing out of his mouth this morning:

‘Has Santa brought my Hyperdash?’, then ‘Is this my Hyperdash?’, ‘WHERE IS MY HYPERDASH!’

When he finally opened it, Santa breathed a huge sigh of relief. But now Santa wants to hide the fucking thing in the cupboard cause if she he hears ‘Are you ready to dash?’ one more freaking time tonight she he will staple the kid to the wall and shove it up his arse.

Santa didn’t forget Mummy this year. I got a dressing gown that I picked up the other day while replacing my panties that keep ‘disappearing’ that is just my size. And a bluetooth mouse for my computer. That would go missing in five minutes if it wasn’t for the fact that some arsehole keeps playing with something on HIS computer and causing my computer to no longer recognise the mouse… Oh and the fact that a bluetooth mouse was no-fucking-where on the laundry list of things that I gave him to choose from for me. A domain name? Nup. Shoes? Nup. A weekend away? Nup. Jewellery? Nup. A new phone? No sireee. Should I go on? Nup.

Santa spoiled the girls with a keyboard and punching bag for Too and a gawd daymn exxy graphics tablet for Moo. Other junky stuff and this each:

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Santa’s helper is a clever little vegemite. He was able to build 2 computers and turn them into Mac’s.

Got to Mum and Dad’s for Christmas jaw workout lunch and there were more gifts from the jolly fat guy!

The hall table that I specifically told Santa I didn’t want. I wanted the one next to it. The one that matched my furniture…. but I guess I can’t blame him, it was supposed to be my present last year.

My brother Santa left the most awesome present till last. A Wii. And Guitar Hero 3. And 2 more games. The girls nearly fainted. And have been attached to it ever since. Except when we dragged them away for 15mins to eat something other than chocolate. Too scored 250 in bowling. Apparently that is good. So good in fact she found it necessary to ring my father tonight to shatter his top score and crush his victory to inform him. Moo fancies herself as the next Eric Clapton or Jimmy Hendrix. If she actually knew who the fuck they were…

There is wrapping paper everywhere. Toys and shit strewn all over the furniture, floors, walls, light fittings. We ate leftovers, chocolate and the Christmas essential

images1.jpeg for dinner. I am about to drag Boo to bed while Moo and Too play the Wii with my brother. Need a good nights sleep cause we are putting up the fort/cubby/extension on the house tomorrow.

All in all it was a lovely Christmas day. Despite what I say. I got gifts, kisses and hugs from my kids, to see my brother revel in being able to give my kids the Most. Awesome. Present. Eva. eat copious amounts of chocolate, not cook at all all day and drink myself into a stupor with far too much wine.

Which spawned this post.

I will leave you now to hopefully sleep it off with a link to Kim’s blog. She took the most fantastic Santa photo ever. Pop over and check it out!

And pop over to WhyMommy’s blog, she has had the best Christmas news. Made me weep with joy.

❤ Whymommy.

Ho Ho Ho!

Take that as you will.

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Man, there is some crazy kinda stink coming out of my boy.

Like rotting flesh and playdoh.

Or is it communism? I don’t know but it smells like 40 kinds of awful.

We went to a cafe after school today. Boo was beside himself as it was a gluten free cafe and he got to have a soy icecream in a freaking CONE!! The kid was swooning.

We were in a booth. I was gulping my 4th sipping my latte, Moo chowing down on some cheesecake and Boo, well he was whispering sweet nothings to his icecream.

Then it hit me. Oh. My. God.

I looked a Moo, she looked at me and we decided it couldn’t be Boo cause that kid farts all the time and it had never smelt like that.

The smell was reminiscent of the caravan park that MPS’s brother put us in after driving 14 hours overnight to make arrangements for his mothers funeral. The caravan park next to the sewerage plant.

But worse.

We shot a dirty look at the toddler in the next booth.

Then in the car. That smell again.

We pull into the driveway, heads out the window gulping fresh air.

I send Boo to the toilet, when I realise that the smell, the smell that would send the hounds of hell whimpering into a corner is coming from his mouth.

He is burping up that smell.

I interrogate him. Fat lot of good that is. All I get is ‘I don’t know’ or echolalic response.

But then I spy it. The half eaten remnants of one of the coconut truffles I made on the weekend. And the mocha ones. And they were choc full of cream, cream cheese and sweetened condensed milk.

Aaaaaaah! Yes, I know that smell. The smell that used to cauterize my nose hairs before we took him off dairy at 8 months old. Good ol’ cow lactation.

The little bastard must have swiped them from the fridge.

Tomorrow P (his teacher) will be in hysterics.  Boo is going to his new classroom.  With his new teacher for next year.  She will get to sample first hand why it is not a good idea to let Boo eat something that is not part of his special diet.

Should I pack some air freshener?  Pine or lavender?

*************

Thankyou to all of you that have been scouring the stores for Hyper Dash for me. Or sending out your husbands *snigger*. Especially to those that parted with cold hard cash to ensure that Boo got his wish from Santa.  I am truly humbled that you would even think to look for me. I am truly speechless at the wonderfulness of my internet friends. 

And it is a rectangular box!!!  Yay!

I went to a blog today. Not a blog that I would normally frequent, but the person commented here so I wandered on over.

I remembered that I commented on a previous post and thought I would see if there was a reply.

And my comment was not there.

I know I commented. The blogger was asking for advice. I gave my opinion. In a very nice no-swearing-involved way. But perhaps not what she wanted to hear?

That has pissed me off.

If you put a question out to the blogosphere, you are asking for opinions. You will get ones that don’t necessarily align with your views.

But you suck it up.

I could be a biatch and say who this person was and their pathetic desperate attempt at more readers question. But you know who you are. I will not bother to comment on your blog again. My time is worth more than that. I have people to despise and shoes to drool over.

OK. Got that off my chest. Feel better now. Will do a proper *snort* post later.

But for your entertainment here is the lunch box that Boo has made me.

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Yes, a huge freaking storage box.

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The sandwich is ham, mustard, pepper, cheese, mayo and the lettuce from the rabbits cage. I am soooooo freaking thankful that I saw him get that lettuce. I am trying to distract him so I can chuck out the sandwich.

I am NOT eating that shit. Nup. I have done it before but not when it has rabbit spit all over it.

I was a good little 50’s housewife today.

Replete with apron and self satisfied smirk.

Oh, I went the whole nine yards today, even helped out at school putting away fucking books sorting the readers in the reader room. For 2 and a half HOURS. Boo better get the teacher I want next year or I swear in front of God and all the internets that I will mess up that room GOOD.

Muttering death chants Dancing around the house with my feather duster, vacuum and mop, picking up after my little arseholes angels while seething and trying to ignore tending to my pathetic sick husband and daughter.

And there is more! Oh yes my lovelies, I cooked something for dinner that I have never ever cooked. Something that my kids have given up begging for cause I could never stomach making it.

Tripe? Black Pudding? Monkey brains?

Nope. Steak. Bletch. Mashed potatoes (OK but I prefer mashed sweet potato) and peas.

My aversion to great hunking slabs of animal flesh stems from my childhood.

My mother was a shite cook limited in her abilities in the kitchen. Her repertoire consisted of roast lamb on Sundays, apricot chicken (even the smell of apricot nectar sends me heaving) ‘mexican sausages’ (sausages boiled in tomato soup served with rice. Where is the freaking ‘mexican’ in there?) and either sausages or chops. So tough that we built up some pretty impressive arms cutting the bastards.

The sausages and chops were served with any combination of the following:

Home made chips. Sliced potatoes cooked in lukewarm oil till they were slightly warm and soggy and still raw in the middle. A pretty impressive feat really.

Mashed potato. I think she would lose interest halfway through mashing. So in reality potatoes with the shit boiled out of them and then slightly drained.

For a treat on a hot night we would have potato chips (or crisps).

Served with peas swimming in a sea of butter.

Sometimes Dad would go into the kitchen and make us omelette’s or pancakes.

Herbs were for hippies and spices were table salt and white pepper.

When I first left home I literally lived on spicy stirfries for a year!

So I have been living out of home since I was 18 and have never ever cooked a steak.

But today I was being the good little 50’s housewife, without the help of ‘Mothers little helper’ of my grandmothers day. Valium.

I did shopping, put it away, cleaned up after the little arseholes angels again and threw the hunking great lumps of bloody flesh on the George Forman.  Left the room a couple of times in disgust and then served it up to the salivating animals my darling family.

Too’s eyes lit up.  Moo swooned.  DH was jumping up and down with glee.

‘You are the best Mummy in the whole wide world’ exclaimed my carnivores as they gnashed their jaws on the pieces of cow.

I kept replaying that in my mind as I scrubbed George clean.

Then I made myself some toast.

****************

I will post the pictures of my new shoes tomorrow.

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My girlfriend A, sent me this today. I was bitching about all the toy recalls because of lead. She thought Boo might like to have a go at this one. Oh I laughed until I stopped. Biatch. In the nicest possible way of course….

I have a chewer. The kid chews everything. Toys, books, fences, clothes, a used emery board. A apparently unbreakable disability specific ‘chew toy’.

A coffee table.

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I wonder if it was made in China??

My Boo is too cute.

This morning he asked if I was hungry.

He has decided to make me breakfast.

First of all the sandwich.

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Cheese, butter (yes those lumps are butter!) mayonaise and salt. I stopped him just before he poured BBQ sauce and paprika on it.

Lovely presentation with water, 3 cheese and bacon rolls, sultanas, extra salt and a toy. The sandwich is under the bowl. Real professional like. Presented on a tray covered with playdoh.

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A Boo Happy Meal

Mmmm mmm mmm it’s stomach pump time!

And yes, I did eat the sandwich. I deserve the Mother of the Year award.