Ooooooh it’s Friyay.
Today Mammy took a notion.
Mammy is going to surprise the girlies by bringing them to meet Daddy for a surprise dinner date and we’ll have a lovely family evening with our two well behaved darlings, who Shall eat their Yummy dindins. Then we shall have the joy of watching them eating Pink icecream, the adorable little munchkins, before going home for a relaxing bedtime where Daddy would put them to bed while Mammy pours a glass of grapes and puts her Tired feet up for a good old Corrie wedding…
Mammy is a deluded Twatsickle who often falls victim to her very own Disney Princess notions. 😂
But never fear.
Mammy has her very own Mini whose main purpose in life (today anyway) seems to be to knock Silly Mammy off her Disnified perch.
We did meet Daddy.
From the second we sat down, Mini-me was a wagon. A proper little shitsickle. She made Princess look like an angel. That IS Quite the achievement! I won’t go into too much detail but when I tell you that ignoring the waitress, refusing to order, asking for a cocktail, bursting into tears because Mammy ordered for her, sliding onto the floor, scribbling on the menu were only a FEW of her party tricks, you can imagine the rest.
Mammy and Daddy spent the date sending each other apologetic “what we’re we thinking” looks and starting conversations they both knew would not be finished before they started.
Mammy wished she could go back to correcting exams and considered that she should have just gone home to cook the freezer contents. Daddy wondered why he had ever thought that leaving work early was a good idea… I’m guessing that only for fear of Divorce, he would have happily gone back to his BFF Jim.
They did go home: After NO dessert. They did get the girls to bed: After NO story and plenty of the special strops reserved only for the first Friday night after school holidays…
Mammy did pour grapes.
And just like Mammy’s fairytale picture of her evening DIDN’T happen, neither did the Corrie Wedding.
But See there’s where Mammy is going wrong… sometimes life is Corrie, not Disney.
At least with Corrie, you expect disaster!
Here’s to all you Mammies who got a reality check from your little Notionwreckers today.
And here’s to Poor Sinead… she’s better off. It’s only have ended in no icecream and wine.
How was your Friday?
I watched The Apprentice this week and was reminded of this piece from last year. 👇👇
Turns out that one year on, not only is Mini-Me still the same, but Princess is equally as strong a candidate.
Lord Alan-of-the-Sugar wouldn’t last 5 minutes in MY boardroom!
And I’ll bet you Mammies can see your own Minis in this Letter of Application?
Dear Sir Alan-of-the-Sugar,
I attach the CV of my Daughter, Miss Mini-Me of the S-Mum, who I feel must be brought to your attention.
Having watched the opening episode of your FABLIS show “Dapprentice”, I feel that IF you were to fly Mini-Me (and her Mum obviously) to London to meet you, you would hire her IMMEDIATELY and put an end to the tedious, although highly entertaining, process of ” Dapprentice”.
For her 5 (and a half and 3/4) years, she is VERY accomplished. I will outline just a few of the qualities she possesses which make her an obvious addition to your team.
She would certainly impress you, Her-of-the-fablis-straight-face-and-shiny-hair and Him-of-the-bald-head-and-eloquent-speaking.
In fact, I do believe that she could be your Mentor if I’m honest:
■ She is highly intelligent. Beyond her years really.
■ She is ruthless and assertive.
■ Her communication skills are superb. She speaks English, Irish and French (Buideal means “Hi” no?). She also speaks Mini-Me which even YOU can’t speak.)
■ She is loud and can be obnoxious if the situation requires her to be so.
■ She will manipulate the knickers off an elephant.
■ If she doesn’t get her way, she will revert to tears if necessary.
■ She is loud. She WILL be heard. There will be NO ONE in the boardroom who will be louder than her.
■ She is hugely adept at the talking AT the handset as opposed to INTO the phone like a normal, non-dapprentice person does.
■ She can change Best Friends at the drop of a hat, so really, you could fire ANYONE and she wouldn’t care.
■ She will blame EVERYBODY else in the room, even if the project has failed SOLELY because of her.
■ She believes in herself and her abilities 100%. (And so she should. She’s awesome.)
■ She can stare wistfully out a car window, seemingly ignoring everyone, but listening to EVERY SINGLE WORD and storing it as evidence for the boardroom.
■ The doll who thinks she has the “energy of an atomic bomb” would look like a fart in the wind beside Mini-Me.
■ Her negotiation skills are world class.
■ She is SUPERB at listening to instruction from her Team leader, before COMPLETELY IGNORING said instruction and doing her own thing. I call this INITIATIVE. Others would call it insolence…
■She is not beyond Blackmail or Bribery.
Mini-Me is determined and diligent. In fact, she can be like a dog with a fricken bone if she decides she wants something.
Feel free to contact her references:
Granny of the Hill, Granny of the Liffer, Santa Claus.
(No point in asking me or her Daddy. Even SHE doesn’t listen to us.)
Good luck in your search, but honestly you won’t find a more suitable candidate than the aforementioned.
Secretary and PA to Mini-of-the-Me and Princess-of-the-world 😗
It looks like he’s leading her through the woods doesn’t it? 👇👇
Well. What’s REALLY happening here is that this little Wobbler is leading HIM right up the garden path. Princess has morphed into a Demon.
On Sunday she threw her first FULL BLOWN tantrum. We were out for dinner. She lost the bap. We sat looking at each other like two teenagers, neither of whom had a CLUE what to do or how to react. She was screaming and kicking. I held on tight while Daddy pulled Peppa Feckin Pork up on the phone. #needsmust 😢 She stopped screaming once the music started. I swear to God, she was like a deflating balloon and then peace was restored and the other diners stopped glaring at us…
Granda didn’t believe a word of it. Nooooooo. HIS little Princess wouldn’t do that. Not his wee angel…Nope. Granda got his eyes open today however 😂when we went out for tea to celebrate my little sis’s little brown envelope. Once again, DemonDoll threw a strop in the restaurant. Granda declared her a feral tyrant and declared HIMSELF officially retired from all tantrum duties, now that his own youngest is all grown up. I do believe that after 36 years of parenting MAYHEM, it has taken a Curley haired cherub to finally break him. 😂😂
“There was a little girl, who had a little curl”… and when she was bad, she was TERRIFYING! ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING. 😈😈😈
So as innocent as she might look here👇, dandering up a laneway with her Daddy, from behind, you can’t see the glint in her eye that tells him “I own you Daddy. I own you.”
(In fairness, he’s well used to it. Note what he’s carrying in the other hand… because the OTHER Dollyanna insisted on bringing her scooter and lasted approximately 3 minutes. #rascals #daddy)
Still. I wouldn’t change them for the world. How was your day? I do hope all of the brown envelope Mums are having a large grape tonight and that the Minions have fun and safe celebrations 😚😚😚
It is sooooo Grapejuice o’clock on this wonderfully unfeckeuped feck-it-up Friday.
I was doing well you know…
I was doing SO well that I smugly thought I’d get through a full day without shouting or scolding or being a generally horrible Hell-Beast to my little angel.
I nearly did it…
And THEN she pulled her usual stunt in “Gwanny’s” that leaves HER in dramatic floods of tears, ME ready for the Nut house and my poor Mother torn between remembering what it was like to be mortified in front of HER Mother, and wanting to steal the Demonchild from me and to raise her in the non-shouting, calm and much more cushioned safety of Granny’s house.
Imagine a Disney Fucking princess as she is dragged, sobbing, from her Prince, hand outstretched and a sad and melancholic expression on her tear stained face, mouthing the name of her lost one, in slow motion of course…
Imagine the child in The Railway Children or such orphanesque tale, watching their only relative as the train pulls away from the platform, knowing that they’ll never see them again…
Imagine the scene in The Hunger Games where Catniss is about to be catapulted up into the Arena and the baddies attack her BFF right before her eyes.
There’s nothing she can do.
She is helpless.
It is terrible.
Now imagine the Gobshite who is causing the drama.
That would be me. 😭
And poor Granny is witness to the atrocities. She wants to scoop the little angel into her arms and hush her and sooth her and tell her it’ll be OK and that OF COURSE she doesn’t HAVE to go home with Mean old Mammy and OF COURSE she can stay with Granny for ever and ever and ever and ever cause Granny will NEVER get cross like mean old Mammy.
She wants to.
But of course she doesn’t.
She helps poor, mental, wits-end Woman put the obviously abused, unloved and despairing child in the car, telling her she’ll see her tomorrow and to be a good girl for Mammy. It breaks her heart no doubt.
The girlchild is so convincing that a little part of ANY witnessing adult would possibly consider ringing fucking Childline to report Cruel, Uncaring, Crazy Mammy.
Granny has been here before.
Granny has been on the other side of it.
(Obviously with much less dramatic daughters, given the three angelic girlchildren she raised…😂😂😜😜)
Ans as much as Granny does indeed want to save her little girl from the Scary One for a night…she also knows that her little girl HAS to take the scary one home! 😂😂😂
This scene pretty much kills both of the grown ups, but they BOTH know that by the time Madam TurboTwat gets to her own house, (a whole 76 yards away), she’ll have completely forgotten the dramatic ordeal which evil Mammy has just subjected her to by asking her to put on her fucking boots to go home.
The 90 second drive home will be sufficient for her to completely FORGET her violent and impressively fucking MENTAL protest in Granny’s street. She shall wipe her tears away, skip in the door and ask “Is scooby Doo on?” before demanding a “cuppa mulk pwease” and then informing Mammy that she is her “best wee mammy” as she is handed said cuppa fecking milk.
And Mammy will stand at the door, watching her in disbelief, completely fooked and wishing that there was some time machine that would whizz her forward half an hour so she could sit on her arse and recover her sanity with some grapes.
#callthemammypolice #notathingwrongwithher #fml