Tag-a-rama

I have been tagged by two peeps so far; Ellie and http://hissychick.com/ - hey hissy, I don't think I know your name!

Here are the rules ...

1. Link to the person who “tagged” you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post.
5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know your entry is up.


So here goes...

1. I have a shockingly good memory. For example, I know the lyrics to pretty much every song that's been written since about the 1950's. Not just the choruses either but the versus too; each and every one of them! Fathership spins right out and laments that I should be using my powers for something more useful than karaoke - meh, what does he know?!?

2. Both of my knees have rather large and kind of "lightning" shaped scars on them. Let's just blame a misspent youth for now, shall we?

3. I was an insomniac for most of my childhood and well into my late twenties. Nobody believed me - including my parents. It took my mum's stumbling upon my books and books of writing and poetry (all timed and dated) for her to take notice of what I'd been telling her. Regrettably even she couldn't convince our family doctor that I was suffering and he refused to prescribe any medication for "someone so young". I never went back to him again.

4. I have a history of going out with wankers and arseholes. Not sure what that's all about but there you go. I tell myself they were "for practice" and that because of them, I can now really appreciate the fabulous man I chose to marry. If I'd not experienced such shitheads, maybe I'd just assume all men were great. They're not.

5. I love to cook. As a mother of two, I don't quite get the opportunity I'd like to partake in my hobby but I really do enjoy throwing things together to create deliciousness.

6. I am lazy. Doing nothing is my favourite thing to do - or not do, as it were. It doesn't happen often nowadays but yay for lying about like a sloth!

Disclaimer: I cannot tag anyone for, alas, every single chappy I know in Blogland has been tagged! Hey, I followed all the other rules!

He's a Sensitive New Age Guy...

My H1, ever the SNAG, is not afraid of housework.

This morning, upon spilling a very large noodle bowl filled with sloppy Weet Bix and milk all over my white kitchen tiles, he proceeded to mop it up for me...

...using my brand spanking new, pale green, fluffy feather duster.

It's not so fluffy anymore.

You are cordially invited to...

cut my frikken tongue out!

Seriously.

H2 and I were having a leisurely stroll about the shops today, just quietly chillin' out.

Stumbled across another pram pushing mum and made the requisite mumsy small talk. Blah blah di blah. She had already seen H2 and made her giggle so I thought it only polite I pay her little boy some attention.

How did I do that? Well, so glad you asked. I looked at him, smiled and said "Oh... He's an interesting looking baby, isn't he?"

What the fuck??? How is that an acceptable comment to make!? What was I thinking? Clearly, I wasn't.

The worst part of all is that I didn't mean it in an unpleasant way. He really did just have unusual features; almost like an older child rather than a baby. The problem with situations such as this though is that the harder you try to dig yourself out, the deeper and deeper you get.

I couldn't get away fast enough... Possibly because I had one foot in my mouth.

GPS is my new love

Today saw the loss of my GPS virginity and frankly, I had no idea what I was missing!

It's like driving in one of those big arsed Sega rally car get-ups in Timezone! You have no clue whatsoever where the hell you're going and yet soldier on, ever bravely. This British accented woman and I became firm and fast friends.

I love her, I really do! For the first time in my life, I enjoyed being told what to do. I wasn't offended when she told me where to go. She kept me company all the way to the big smoke and ensured my safe arrival. We worked so frightfully well as a team.

She is so clever that even when I tried to get lost, she found us again. Who said women can't read maps?! She didn't even need to.

Ooh, somebody invite me somewhere a long way away. I want another hot date with my girl.

She comes bearing gifts...

I think.

Friday night is Em Eye Ell night - which, for those of you playing at home, stands for Mother In Law. H1 awaits her arrival with much anticipation and Fathership and I, well, we are slightly less enthusiastic. I suspect she is aware of this and so softens the blow each week with an offering of some kind. This week it was bananas. Please see below.

I'm sure she thinks we love the donations she makes to our diet but I'm struggling to be excited. Would it be rude to ask for money instead?

I'm afraid of getting old.

Here's my hot tip for the day:

If you absolutely must misplace your mobile telephone somewhere in the house, do not do it when the ringer volume is set to mute.

That's all I have to say about that.

A letter from our esteemed government

And really, the first two sentences are all you need, to get an idea of how things are going at Camp Rudd. (Well, technically three sentences, I suppose, but I digress...)

Dear Mrs Mothership

1) Your family has been assessed as being eligible for Child Care Benefit.

2) Your rate of Child Care Benefit, or how much you can be paid, is zero.

Well shit, he's just gone troppo in the generosity stakes, no? And wouldn't the second statement mean that I wasn't, in fact, eligible???

Two pieces of A4 paper, a window DL envelope and the price of postage - all to tell me... well, I'm fucked if I know!