Hurray and Woohoo!
Thursday is Takeaway Day.
It’s time for our local Ocras to get their weekly phonecall from me as I lift the girls from creche.
“TenminutesMaria!” (He doesn’t even have to ask who it is. That’s service for ya!)
And I look forward to it soooooooooooooo much. Not because I am going to eat it. No. This Mammy is back on the wagon and as much as I love Joe’s pizzas, I am being good (during the week anyway!)
No. I look forward to it for a few reasons.
Mainly because I am still traumatized by the sausages incident of last night.
Secondly, because I don’t get home until almost 6pm if I go to see Jim and my minions will be “Staaaaaaaaarvin Mammy” if they have to wait for me to cook.
Thirdly, because after the generally organised and productive start of the week, I’m running out of gas/petrol/thewilltolive and quite simply can’t be arsed cooking. (reminder to Him, we still need ACTUAL gas too!)
And most importantly, it means happy kids, no dishes and a headstart on my Thursday night Happy Mammy Blitz.
My Thursday Mammy Blitz is class.
No matter how knackered I am, I make Thursday night all about cleaning.
I get the girls to bed, do the washing, clean the sespits that are the bathrooms, mop all the floors and generally leave the place as clean as possible so that when we get home on Friday evening, it is actual down time. I’ve mentioned it before. I’ve done it for years. For me, the best thing about Friday evening is coming home and not having to start cleaning and doing housework. It’s a mess again by Saturday, but hey! Whatever works eh?
And the ABSOLUTE best thing about my Mammy Blitz, is that my reward for being such a superorganised-notsausageburning-shitMum, is that I get a glass of wine in front of the tellybox before bed.
And now that I have Derry Girls to look forward to on Channel 4 at 10pm, it’s going to be even better.
Ain’t nothing dousing this good mood today.
Have a good one!
Today, I cleaned the glass on the doors in my kitchen.
I have been looking at the fingerprints and handprints and food smudges and what-the-feck-else-I-do-not-know-smudges since the LAST time I washed them. 😣😣
“The last time I washed them” is a bit vague. It varies depending on who I am talking to: If I know you well, I won’t even excuse them, because you won’t even notice them, but you know yourself, there will always be those people who arrive or pop in or visit, to whom you feel compelled to lie about your cleaning.
“Would you BELIEVE I only washed those windows LAST weekend? Can’t keep them clean with these two rascals… hardeehardeehar”, you quaffle with extra hugh pitch in your voice, while you ignore the Him’s raised eyebrows because he knows that they POSSIBLY haven’t been WIPED in 3 months, never mind cleaned! 😂😂
It’s like confessions…”Bless me Mrs for I have sinned. It’s been 3 months since my last confession.” (Cue fires in hell sizzling in excitement that you’ve just LIED to the Priest, IN CONFESSION. 😂)
So yes, today.
I DID clean the fecking glass AND THEN, I left my two minions eating their frozen frubes in front of Upsy Crazy and Macka Facka and scooted to my bedroom to leave a basket of clothes on the floor (where they shall rest and mature for up to 3 weeks…it’s the only way you know?) 😄😄
Approximately 36 seconds later, I returned to this little shitster👇👇, caught white handed clattering the fecking glass with the end of her Frube… I’m going to go ahead and think positively that she OBVIOUSLY saw me cleaning them earlier and so was imitating her Mary-of-the-poppins-esque Mammy Bear.
This theory has been further verified by the fact that she had ALREADY “cleaned” the Tellybox too… So here we are now, with the glass having not been cleaned in months, and now suddenly cleaned 3 times in one fecking day!
Wee monster this doll… 😇😇
How was your day? 😂😂