After a disaster of a morning/afternoon/early evening…OK. I’ll start again.
After a pretty epic Feck-it-up Friday, things began to settle after I visited Him and his Jim. For one sweaty hour, I was Laura Croft, (without the boobs obviously) and I ROCKED.
(I no longer fall over when trying to lunge. THAT, my friends, is progress!
Yay me and screw you tummy-muscles-like-a-bingo-wing. I’m gonna find youuuuuu! 😂)
Mini-Me ate her dinner in 9 minutes tonight.
It was “home made bread covered with ripe unblemished organic tomatoes and cheese from a Virgin cow, accompanied by new season potatoes gently coated in free range dust and gluten free oil from the rain forest”.
I fed her Pizza and waffles.
Because I’m on Feck-it-up Friday so I may as well continue through with the theme.
After an unusually calm bedtime, with my two little munchkins snoring, I needed food.
I RESISTED the temptation to ring the Him and tell him to come home ONLY if he was carrying a biryani or he’d be bludgeoned to death with a Peppa pig car.
I also decided I’d be good and NOT have a Friday night tipple, because I am energised and clean and organic and fabulous.
Then, I caught the last 10 minutes of Corrie and watched THE most moving and amazingly awful death of Kylie Platt.
(Shut up. Yes. I may teach film studies for a living, but at the minute, Tree Fu Tom is the intellectual highpoint of my day.)
So Corrie was impressive and horrible and terrible and by the time the Him came in, I was BAWLING.
His panic was quickly replaced by hysterical laughter when I eventually slabbered “Kylie …just …a….died and it’s. ..so ooh. ..sad!” 😭😭😭
His reply included a LOT of expletives and the line “The last time I came home to this you were pregnant.”
And now he’s panicking that I’m up the dudu again and I’m probably going to have to do a test to bring his stress levels down from 90. 😂😂😂
(I’m not! Calm the cacks.)
So with the trauma of the most realistic portrayal of last breath I’ve seen since Marley & Me, the horrific sadness of her last message to her kids, not to mention David Platt’s heart wrenching “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”, I did what everyone else who was there did.
I poured a very large Gin with a tiny dash of tonic.
And my nerves are just about settling so I MAY need another one.
You know… for Kylie?
May she Rest in Soapland Heaven. 😇😇
Happy Fecked-it-up Friday Ladybelles.
Feel free to tell me how you Fecked-it-up today. Or rub it in how your day was fablus.
S-Mum x 😙😙