It’s half term, I’ve had a very busy weekend, Gramp’s 60th party, a photoshoot for an emotional piece about my ‘other blog‘ and a random illness where I was so cold that the duvet hurt me last night. Yes, it actually hurt me.
I’ve had 6 hours sleep in 48 hours. I must have had a temperature because when I did sleep I dreamt I was sat in a hospital waiting room with the dog for company waiting for someone to come and tell me that my legs weren’t going to drop off.
I have lots of posts lined up in my head, but they need someone with a brain to get them ready to post. Today I am not that person. Today I am Working Zombie Lady with a hint of chocolate biscuit.
Excuses over. I bring you a post from last year … which, yes, is cheating … I like to call it recycling. Enjoy.
The virtual burglar pays a visit … in my head
Occasionally I have irrational thoughts. For instance;
What if a burglar were to break into the house in the middle of the night?
Last week I gave it too much thought, it went a little something like this;
So, the burglar breaks in. I don’t know how, he just does OK?
The dog who is having one of those dreams where she’s running in the park stirs. She doesn’t bark. Instead she vomits on the burglar’s shoes and proceeds to wag her tail and lick him. She welcomes him into our home. Not only has she been sick but earlier in the evening she was cleaning her arse with that tongue.
He fumbles to switch on his torch and surveys the kitchen for car keys to the shiny motor on the drive. Plates are piled high on the work surface. Don’t these people have a dishwasher? No, not unless you count me and the husband.
His torch light falls upon a picture on a pinboard of a gay couple. One of them is dressed as Adam Ant, the other is dressed as himself and has a fetching moustache. This picture is me (Magnum PI) and the husband (Adam Ant) at my sisters 40th birthday party. Note the chest hair (For the record and those of you who were wondering … this is not my own chest hair).
There’s no hope of finding keys amongst the clutter. He locates a handbag on the worktop and opens it. He takes out the contents looking for a purse; a box of raisins, a soggy tissue, a broken Cinderella necklace, a sock, a notebook with extensive Disney notes … a purse with a faulty zip, several receipts for the Co-op and just three ten pence pieces.
He finds a mobile phone right at the bottom of the handbag, hiding. Not the latest model but worth a bob or two. The screen flashes bright. A picture of two small children wearing underpants on their heads greets him. Oh my god, what kinds of people are parenting these children? I believe in nature over nurture … my children are truly bonkers, is that really my fault? … Ahem.
He decides to venture into the living room to check out the electrical goods. Suddenly there is a piercing shriek. He stops dead in his tracks, terrified that there is a beast upstairs. The 4 year old is having night terrors again.
In his panic to leave the house he goes into the downstairs toilet and is met a child’s floater bobbing alone. “Of course I flushed the toilet Mummy”
Recoiling in horror and running back towards the door he stands on a toy fire engine and falls to the floor crashing into the intricate marble run of the previous day.
As he crawls to his knees he kneels on a piece of Lego. OH THE PAIN! For those of you not accustomed to the pain a piece of Lego can cause when kneeled upon, I have confirmed, after a lengthy conversation with the husband, that is equal to standing on an upturned plug.
Clutching his knee he notices some car keys hanging out of a coat pocket in the hall. Bingo!
Relieved to be leaving the house of horrors he realises that the keys are not for the shiny motor, they are indeed for the rusty, dusty old motor parked beside it.
He sits in the car, the first thing to hit him is the lingering smell of wet dog. He puts the key in the ignition. The car stereo signals its awakening with a loud rasping farting noise and The Wind in The Willows blares out of the speakers. The faulty hand brake alarm starts and the petrol gauge is glowing on empty.
What burglar, in his right mind would pick on us?!
12 Comments on "Excuses, a Painful Duvet, Cheating and a Burglar"
Oh, you poor thing. Get well soon, not least because the world needs more posts like that! Your house sounds identical to mine – and oh, the pain of kneeling on Lego. Argh.
Thinking of you Lovely.
Aha i know the duvet hurting thing, hope you feel better soon
Recycling with a twist. Do take care and get some rest.
CJ xx
and I thought I was having a bad day !!! Feel better soon. You don’t look anything like I imagined by the way : ) xx
Oh, sorry to hear you’ve been poorly. I thought you’d been incommunicado over the last couple of days. On the upside, it means we get to look at you and the husband looking supersexy. Next time we go to the C*ck I want you wearing that chest wig. I’m all of a tingle
Hello! I live on the West coast of the US, and with the time difference I generally read your blog on my handheld in the middle of the night while nursing the baby. Last night, though, I had to stop because I kept shaking with laughter to the extent that the baby would fully wake up. So glad you recycled this post. Hope you feel better!
Aww feel better soon. And hope you get some more sleep. xx
That’s the first time I read it so it made me laugh.
Hope you shake that bug off soon.
Love the hairy chest btw.:))
Awww! Feel better soon!
xxx
agh, sorry to hear you’re not feeling great. Hope you get some sleep and feel better soon. Love the virtual burglar post!
Aw sorry to hear you’re feeling poo. Get well soon. Can’t wait to hear all about the party and the photoshoot and the other random stuff when you’re better xxxx