MUM! I gotta go!... NOW!!

When you're really busy running your errands,
Down the street, with a thousand things to do.
You hear a tiny little voice pipe up,
"Mummy! I need to do a poo!"


I don't have time for this, I'm too busy!
I've got to pick up that script by 2!
But those little eyes just look up at you, repeating,
"Mummy! I need to do a poo!!"


Can you hold on for 5 more minutes?
We're at the checkout, so shopping's nearly through,
But he's banging on the trolley, getting louder now,
"Mummy! I need to do a poo!!!"


Why won't this transaction hurry up!
It's taking forever for the EFTPOS to go through!
The checkout chick is getting grossed-out from him chanting,
"Mummy! I need to do a poo!!!!"


So you run around searching frantically.
Somewhere there HAS to be a public loo!
He's started jumping and clutching his bum, yelling,
"Mummy! I need to do a poo!!!!!"


Finally! You make it to the parents room.
Unfortunately, there's a bit of a queue.
But they let you go ahead when they hear him screaming,
"MUMMY! I NEED TO DO A POO!!!!!!"


Quick! Take down your pants and your undies.
No! Please don't take off your shoe!
I know you're busting, but take your time honey,
"Mummy! I need to do a poo!!!!!"


As he sits there smiling contentedly,
With a stench that is way off the charts!
He grins sheepishly, and says very quietly,
"It wasn't poo mum. It's just farts".

Kids always pick the worst times to go to the toilet! Have you been stuck somewhere with a child that needed to go?

B.U.I (Buying Under the Influence)

It's Friday night, the kids are in bed, hubby is watching football, or cricket, or goldfish tossing on the TV, and I have a lovely bottle of wine...

I open the bottle and stumble across Ebay. "Ooh! I just needed to look for a new pair of sunglasses", I say. Then am sucked into some kind of time-space vortex for the next two hours.

I come to with an empty bottle of wine beside me and am having happy thoughts of my new sunglasses which will arrive some time next week...

Along with all the other impulse purchases I made!

The week after a B.U.I (Buying Under the Influence of alcohol) session is like Christmas! Strange surprise packages appear at your door. You were like your own personal Kris Kringle!

Some of the items you buy are great (like those sunglasses), but other purchases just may have been helped along by that cheeky little bottle of red!

It's a week long extravaganza of parcels arriving via post. Almost like a surreal version of "The 12 Days Of Christmas" (feel free to sing along with me, you know the tune):


In the mail on the Monday, my postie gave to me...
A macrame owl hanging off half a dead tree.

In the mail on the Tuesday, my postie gave to me...
2 bright shades of eyeshadow, and a macrame owl hanging off half a dead tree.

In the mail on the Wednesday, my postie gave to me...
3 novelty purses, 2 bright shades of eyeshadow, and a macrame owl hanging off half a dead tree.

In the mail on the Thursday, my postie gave to me...
4 Snuggies snuggling, 3 novelty purses, 2 bright shades of eyeshadow, and a macrame owl hanging off half a dead tree.

In the mail on the Friday, my postie gave to me...
A 5 disc set of Barry Mannilow siiiiiiiiiiiiings....! (the 80's)

..and so on...

I'm just relieved that it didn't go as far as the 12 pink Flamingos!

Have you ever bought under the influence? Or have you ever experienced any kind of buyers remorse?

Whoops! I just killed Dora!

It's not that I'm psychotic (well, not really). But some days I just get so sick of the characters on Children's TV, that I would really like to see them killed off.

They kill off characters on TV shows all the time! Neighbours, The Bold and The Beautiful, Home and Away... Why not kids shows too?
So rather than put my foot through my TV screen, I've decided to kill them off in prose.

Just imagine that annoying little Dora,
The one who explores at great pace.
If her purple backpack contained no oxygen,
and her map sent her exploring deep space!

Then there's those helium filled rodents,
Who go by the name "Chipmunks".
If they were hired to sing on an arctic cruise,
And an evil iceberg got them all sunk!

The ballet dancing, tutu wearing mouse,
The one they call Angelina Ballerina,
Disappears when pirouetting past Swan Lake,
... and since then nobody's seen her.

Pat was the eternally chirpy postman,
But Jess his black and white cat,
didn't guess where the bomb was hidden,
Now he's called Roastman Pat.

(Roastman Pat, Roastman Pat, Roastman Pat and his BBQ'd cat)



Poor old Dorothy the Dinosaur,
She was the last of her kind you see,
But now she's extinct like the rest of them.
Someone had poisoned her rosy tea.



Lastly those pyjama clad brothers,
Known as B1 and B2,
Were last seen running away from,
some gorillas who'd escaped from the zoo.




Do you have a kids TV character that you don't like that you'd like to see killed off? Or do you like all the characters on children's TV?

I confess. I still miss you!

It's been four years, but I still miss you.


You were there with me for so many years, but now you're gone. Some may call me crazy, but I do miss you.


You were there with me though all kinds of crazy times.


In my 20s, when I suffered from horrible panic attacks, you were there with me in the middle of the night when I thought I was going to die.


You were there when my heart was broken by silly boys.


My best friend, you and I all shared our ups and downs together. Staying up all night chatting and laughing until we cried. We were all never far away from each other.


You were also there for all the good times. The times we'd stay out all night, catching the first tram of the morning home, walking through the front door all crumpled and dishevilled. I'd sleep for the rest of the day, get up eventually, and we'd watch the sunset from the back porch. Sitting in silence together, amazed at the beauty of nature, and hungover as hell!


You were there when I used to visit my Nanna, Nan Fras. Nan also loved your company. We would sit there for hours of a weekend afternoon, eating a lunch of Mars Bars and instant coffee while she talked of her wonderful life. You were also there for me when she died. You sat with me on her grave as we talked to her. I'm sure she would have felt your presence as much as mine.


But my relationship with you had to end, and you had to go away.


I miss cigarettes. I miss smoking.


I think there are two types of ex-smokers. The anti-smoking kind who will rant against the evils of tobacco. And then there's those like me. Those who loved smoking, and as much as they know how bad it is for themselves and others, they'll understand when someone lights up, smile ... and then go stand next to them and inhale deeply.


Have you ever smoked? Do you miss it at all, or do you hate it?

Not tonight honey... We're being invaded by aliens!

Ahh, the joys of sex, there are many, many many joys! :P

But there are also the days where you are completely exhausted from lack of sleep, you have a pile of dishes in the sink, you haven't shaved your legs in three weeks, and would rather just use the bed for sleeping thank-you-very-much!

So I have come up with some tips for getting out of getting it on!

1. The Cleaning Cover-up:

Ask hubby to give you a hand with the housework before you hit the sheets. If de-grouting the bathroom doesn't turn him off, next get him to clean out the fridge crisper... If he's still in the mood...start worrying about his sanity!

2.The Fake Footy Feint:

"OMG! Aren't the South Chinkapook Goldfish playing the Fraser Island Fuzzy Bunnies? You'd better go watch it! I hear it will be the match of the year!" (Feel free to replace football with your sport of choice, Bog snorkeling, Cheese rolling...)

3. The Pain Pretext:

Forget the old "Not tonight honey, I've got a headache", they'll only tell you that it's good for headaches. Instead, pull out the big guns, a double whammy of ouchy and cringy, "Not tonight honey, I have a urinary tract infection."

4. The Boys-are-awake Bluff:

Pretend you just heard the kids coming down the hallway... and they'll be here any second!!!!

5. The Sexy Stalling Strategy:

"Just let me slip into something more comfortable". Tell hubby you'll just go freshen up, head to the bathroom and slip into something more comfortable...like a deep sleep on the bath mat!



If all else fails, you're still not in the mood and hubby is still trying to get amorous... Then there's nothing left but to fake your own death and go start a new life in Mexico selling coconuts that make sounds like horses galloping...



Are you always up for it? Or do you have some good "avoidance" techniques you can share with us?

Come dry with me... Let's dry away...

Ohhh! Look at me!

I'm ever so environmentally conscious, with my laundry-in-the-lounge!

On rainy days I have rows of clothes spread over my indoor lines like deflated kookaburras sittin' on the 'lectric wires (That's not even a good simile Lyndell! Gosh!)

My drying room is redolent of the fabric softener of the day, "Mountain Breeze", "Ocean Mist", "Woodland Glade" or "Sulphuric Lava Flow", and I get to be ever-so-gently brushed by my garments as I walk through them.

I like that we are saving energy as well, since we don't have a dryer our clothes are left to dry as we heat the rest of the house...

Who am I kidding? I'd KILL for dryer!

It's the dead of Winter. It's cold, it's wet, it's miserable and I just want dry, fluffy clothes! I want to burn a hole in the ozone layer above my house in the shape of that porthole that opens into the magical appliance that removes the dankness from my dresses, the sogginess from my socks and unsaturates my underwear.

Don't get me wrong! It's great to have ethics, and go about living your life without harming the environment. But when It's the middle of the night, and you have two kids vomiting all over their beds, and you're using the last of your moth eaten tablecloths as bedding, ethics don't dry your clothes!

I think tax time I'll be buying a dryer.


Could you live without your dryer during the Winter months? Or are you quite happy with a drying room inside?

Renovations, Elvis and The Hustle

As I glanced up at the clock on the mantle I was surprised that it was gone...Even more I was surprised that it had been replaced with Elvis.

"You should really get rid of those brown woollen curtains and replace them with a nice damask curtain with voile backing and a waved valance..." he mumbled in the general direction of my windows.

"Fuck off Elvis!" I yelled, "No one wants your fucking curtain advice!!"

As the ghost of the long dead rock star disappeared with a poof and a gelationous smear, I was left pondering... Those curtains really are hideous! And... I'd kill for a deep fried cheeseburger right now, extra pickles.

I have been living in my house for 5 years now and our renovations are coming along very slowly.

My partner and I are kind of like one of those revovation shows gone wrong. We've ripped up the carpet in the whole house, and only the lounge room floor has been done...
So the lounge looks nice, except for the half finished mantle piece.

(Whenever I walk into our lounge I see this sign and get this song in my head:

Do the Hustle (or in my case, Do the Mantle)

But back to my offending office curtains, (which the Olsen twins have been fighting over for that bag-lady chic look, ever since the town homeless guy turned them down as bedding) they really are awful, brown, itchy, wool curtains, which I will get around to replacing one day...

So until I have my house fully renovated, I think I'll be left with my imaginary smarmy dead rockstar friend giving me bad renovation advice.

Are you a renovator or a D.I Y queen? I'm not...