Two out of three aint bad?

I’ve never been good with vomit or shit, or bogies come to think of it. It seems whatever protrudes from any orifice of one or both my children makes me retch.

Last week I helped with bath time whilst Carolyn popped out. As I lay on my bed urging both children (4 yr old twins) to sing loudly and frequently so I was confident neither had drowned, I sat bolt upright when Ruby stopped singing Let it Go and shrieked in horror. My toe nail clippers flew as I jumped off the bed and landed on my knees in a sea of reptilian toe nails. I could hear Vivien whimpering softly.

I flung myself into the bathroom to see Ruby standing in the bath, tears streaming down her face, pointing her little finger towards Vivien. Vivien sat in the bath looking at Ruby. In the water around her were various plastic toys and mermaids, Peppa Pig boats, balls, bubbles, and a dirty brown turd.

I was in shock and jolted back with my cupped hand upon my mouth. The dirty brown turd was floating alongside Grandpa Pig’s boat, but bits were breaking off and heading towards Ruby, who was shaking and pointing.

I tried to calm her down as best I could, I  hummed Jerusalem loudly and with meaning, I sang Its all about the Base, but to no avail. Misty my faithful yet crusty cat crept in to watch the commotion.  I threw a small box of panty pads at her and she darted out.  I grabbed Ruby by the shoulders and pulled her out. She was slippery and wet, I suddenly thought of an old Whitesnake song I used to love, but this was not the time.

Vivien was trying to push the turd away from her, but the waves from Ruby being pulled up directed the turd back to Vivien. I ran out of the bathroom with ruby under my armpits wrapped in a towel. She still had soap in her hair and dirt on her arms and face. I threw her onto the bed and sprinted back to the bathroom and stood still for a second as I surveyed the picture before me. Vivien sat surrounded by bath toys, a big brown turd, and a scattering of smaller turdettes that had broken away from the mother ship and were heading in Viv’s direction.

I jumped to the left, and then jumped to the right. I looked back and forth. I retched. A turdette had now touched Vivien. She screamed. I screamed. The cat meowed loudly from outside the bathroom.

I pulled out the plug, picked up Vivien and placed her on the carpet. I quickly grabbed a nappy bag and fished out the turd and large turdettes that had attached themselves to the dissolving mermaid, which had not fully dissolved, as it’s a cheap fucking toy from Tesco’s! I turned the nappy bag inside out and the turd fell into the toilet.

Vivien stood soaking in the bathroom as the water slowly disappeared down the plug hole. Small primary coloured plastic toys lay scattered on the bath, some housing small turdettes, others just covered in bubbles. I hosed down all the toys, put them in a plastic bag and binned the lot. I then cleaned the bath.

Viv I noticed had turned blue; she was freezing to death and shaking violently. I put her back in the bath and hosed her down as well. I then washed my own hands, twice, and swallowed the bit of sick that had risen to the back of my mouth.

As I lay on the bed, sniffing my fingers to make sure there was no turd lingering. Viv and Ru lay silently beside me, clean, dry, watching some weird blind girl called Melody and drinking their milk. I could see from the very corners of my eye that Ruby had her finger up her nose. In slow motion, I turned to face her just as she pulled out something so large it wrapped itself around her finger and stayed there. She pointed the finger to me and said, Mama, can you wipe this away please.

Carolyn walked in as I ran out with my cupped hand over my mouth, swallowing quickly and trying not to retch too loudly in her face.

I guzzled greedily from a bottle of Bordeaux that I had kept for cooking. I cared not.

A night of Pooh, bogies and very nearly some vomit!

Some say 2 out of 3 isn’t bad.

I say 2 out of 3 is a fucking disaster.

Flip Flops

I awoke to find Misty my faithful yet crusty cat perched upon my shoulder. With a wet nose, a purr so deep and breath so disgusting it brought back vivid memories of my trip to Cransac with Jolyon, my brother. We had consumed far too much wine and as I staggered through a passage of piss towards the hole in the ground I stumbled upon some used toilet tissue and fell into what they called a ‘toilet’. I called it a bloody French disgrace and with a hand against the wall and the other pinching my nose, I did what I had to do and legged it.

Since that trip I have been advised not to return. The locals did not take kindly to my blog it seems. To be frank, I never want to return again. Except perhaps to meet the cough mixture lady. She was a small round woman who resembled Susan Boyle. She drank up to 4 bottles of bronchial cough medicine daily. Her constant deep-throat wet and phlegmy cough was usually followed by a ball of phlegm being spat onto the pavement – this caused me to retch frequently. But I kind of liked the woman. I just had to avoid her phlegm balls hitting me.

But this morning as I lay in my pit, instead of cough mixture, I hear my twin girls guzzling their milk and watching Pippa Pig. I flick off Misty and sip my Earl Grey. I feel good. Rumour has it the sun will be out. And if that is the case, so will my feet.

I continue to sip my tea and catch up on Facebook. I can hear the girls screaming that they do not wish to go back to school. They hate it. Carolyn is trying to catch them, feed them breakfast, dress them, give them their reading lesson and then take them to school.

It’s tough being a parent I sigh and sip my tea once again.

All is quiet and I tip toe downstairs into the sitting room and pull out my treadmill. With a holiday on the horizon I need to exercise. A 30-minute power walk. After ten minutes my legs wobble. As I reach out to grab my glass of water my right leg gives way just as Vivien pops her head around the door to see what I’m doing. I didn’t mean to swear so loudly, in her direction, but I did. Her bottom lip dropped and quivered as she slowly turned around and left the sitting room. My water had dampened my tee shirt and my ankle hurt. I switched off the machine and pushed it back against the wall. I limped out. The girls were ready to leave. I helped get them dressed, brushed teeth and waved them goodbye. My work is done. I limped upstairs.

Misty was on my bed. My pillow. She was stretched out in full with her back legs slightly parted. Her head was tucked in her paw. She was snoring loudly. Like Cato I crept over to the bed. Her eyes were open yet she was asleep. She must have been as she did not move until I trod on Ruby’s Barbi doll and screamed so loudly Misty nearly crapped herself. As I fell to the floor I saw Misty back flip off the bed and run past me – her eyes wide, her tail so fluffed up it resembled my duster. She cantered past me meowing angrily.

I slowly got up. My foot was now throbbing. My head was throbbing and I was late for work.
No time to fuck about I needed to be in Reading for 9am this morning and it was nearly 8.30am. I found my white top and threw an iron over it. Trousers, make up and FLIP FLOPS.

I arrived at my work relieved. As I turned off the engine and placed one leg out of the car I noticed my feet.

Dear ruddy God in Heaven the sight caused me to shriek. My feet had not seen daylight for some considerable time. My nails had turned somewhat yellow and instead of perching upon my baby toes they wrapped themselves around each reptilian toe like a claw! They were not human. To top it all the skin on both feet had become hard and flaky and where I had fallen on my treadmill and again on the Barbi doll – my right foot was bruised, red and purple.

My feet were Horrid. They were alien. And I was in fucking flip flops for all to see.

Merry Christmas

Christmas Day Morning (belated)

As I sit alone in a sea of cardboard and wrapping paper the gentle breeze of Misty my faithful yet crusty cat’s stench breath assaults my nostrils and forces a quick but lethal sneeze! As I leap from the sofa clutching my front bottom and cursing loudly I trip on my Ped Egg hard skin remover! It’s not even 10am yet chaos surrounds me. Misty stinks. Carolyn is ill and I am in need of a Bloody Mary. I love this life! Merry Christmas darlings xxxx

Misty

Misty my faithful yet crusty cat has stepped in her own shit. My morning thus far has been spent locating and cleaning the shit paw prints that adorn my duvet, carpet and ruddy sofa trying to catch the furry fucker before the children become diseased! What fukkery is this?

On the Buses – the 800 to be precise

I had no car today. And so at 4.10pm I decided to close shop and hitch a ride on a bus. I’ve not been on a bus for some time now and felt an urge of excitement in my lower regions as I headed towards a bus stop. According to my in depth research, to reach Henley upon Thames one should hail a bus to Friar Street where one dismounts and awaits the number 800 to High Wycombe, via Henley upon Thames. What fun this would be I chuckled as I headed to the bus stop. How wrong was I?

The bus stop was outside the Royal Berkshire hospital off London Road. I approached with caution as I noticed a couple of elderly men with sticks arguing with each other. Further down the pavement a young girl with a brace of kids, a bun perched on her head, tattoos across her cleavage and a stud so big in her tongue she sounded deaf, was screaming obscenities at her children. A woman in her dressing gown and a mobile drip was lighting a fag. An Indian man sat in the bus stop. He had unfortunate long goofy teeth and reminded me of a bottle opener. Whilst he talked he dribbled. It was fascinating to watch but I realised it was not Victorian times, and I was not in an asylum. I sat down and played solitaire waiting for my bus. Moments later the bus arrived. I paid my £1.20 and made my way to a seat by the window.

I walked to my seat and could feel a bus full of beady eyes upon me. I sucked my extra strong mint and sat down. As I breathed in, relieved I was on the bus, the stench of body odour hit me like a sledge hammer. I could not work out where it came from but it was strong, it was putrid, and it was making its way up my nostrils. I placed my hand over my nose but the smell infiltrated my nostrils and before long I felt the urge to vomit on the head of the woman seated in front of me. I found her hair rather upsetting. But that aside I managed to contain my vomit and people watch. My people watching was abruptly stopped when a woman sat beside me and opened a packet of cheese and onion crisps. I looked at her for a second and we caught each other’s eye. I smiled sickly. As did she. I could see the damp crisps stuck to the front of her teeth and the subtle smell of onions on her breath and felt the urge to throw again. I turned away quickly and stared out of the window.

The bus stops were lined up near the back of M&S and there was hundreds of them. I had no idea which bus stop was mine, and the buses that did stop all went to ruddy Calcot! Ruddy Calcot, where the feck is ruddy Calcot? There was no number 800 to be seen. I was told I should walk to the Apex Plaza which is where the 800 bus stops. I power walked around the corner and as I tried to find my phone in my deep bag I tripped and landed on my hands and knees. Fuck I hissed. I did an Exorcist 360 of the head, made sure nobody saw me fall, wiped myself down and continued my journey.

I found the bus stop outside the Plaza. I sat upon a wall away from the bus stop and prayed for a number 800 to take me home. Or for somebody I may know to drive past and see me, and stop, and take me home. Alas none of the above happened. I thought about grabbing a taxi, but decided to give it another few minutes. Just in case the bus arrived.
Opposite where I sat was the Corn Exchange. Two drunken men were seated outside staring at us waiting for our buses and shouting abuse. I tried not to stare and instead thought about my recent trip to Athens with my friends Lou, Sue and Rachel. I was brought back to reality when a young man arrived and stood to my right. I was just thinking to myself how nice he looked in his suit when he started to make the most disgusting gurgling noises as he tried to clear his throat. He cared not for me perched beside him on the wall but continued to gurgle and spit green phlegm onto the pavement in front of me. I felt a gag but held it back. Bus after ruddy fecking bus stopped and moved on. Not one number 800 bus to be seen. By now it was gone 5.20 and I was seriously pissed off. A non-English woman had appeared to my left and kept catching my eye and grinning at me. A bus would stop and go and she would still be standing there, looking at me. I was beginning to feel a little worried when all of a sudden I saw the bus – on the other side of the ruddy road! I cursed and quickly grabbed my bag and legged it over the road. But I was too late, the bus moved on. The two drunken men sitting outside of the Corn Exchange were laughing. And the strange woman across the road was waving at me. I felt the urge to deck her. I decided this was no adventure, I was going to grab a taxi. But then the bus pulled up on the other side of the road, where I had been waiting! I sprinted over the road, passed the weirdo woman and onto the bus. Full of excitement a lady dribble popped out and caught me by surprise.

I had no change. I had no idea how much the journey would cost and I had no idea the driver was deaf and dumb. But he was. I tapped on his window and said I wanted a single to Henley on Thames. He said something back that I could not decipher. I said again I would like a single ticket to HENLEY ON THAMES. He answered something I could not decipher. I started to ask again but he pointed to a price and I understood this to be £4.70. I paid and sat as close to the door as possible.

I felt her eyes upon me as I walked to my seat. She had short red hair and bulbous eyes that did not move from me. The bus started to move and still she stared at me. Clearly she was a nutter. And she was on my ruddy bus. This was not a good start to my journey. I noticed whenever somebody got on or off the bus she would say hello or goodbye. But would then return to stare at me in a very sinister way. I slowed pulled out my packet of mints and placed one in my mouth. I could not outstare her so instead started to play candy crush.

The bus pulled out and I had hoped for a quick sprint down the Henley Road and then home. But no, it turned towards Caversham and stopped every 5 minutes. That woman was still looking at me and the stop start motion of the bus was beginning to make me queasy again. It reminded me a little of Carolyn’s driving. As the bus drove through Caversham and past the Standard Tandoori I stared out of my window and was amazed to see me old mate Sarah Caffrey in a car just driving out of her road. I slapped my hand on the window of the bus hoping she would see me and mouthed GET ME OFF!! But she did not see me. I thought about jumping off at the next stop in the hope she would be behind us and she could drive me home, but I didn’t risk it. I continued candy crush. The nutter had moved her gaze elsewhere and I began to relax a little. Near Binfield Heath she got off. As she walked passed my window I gave her my most horrid glare and then urged the driver to legit!

A short haired man in a track suit and stinking of Joop sat next door to me. My nostrils moved as I tried not to sneeze. I held it in, but then suddenly the sneeze appeared and I lost my mint onto the floor. The man next to me grinned as I kicked the mint under the seat in front of me. I returned to my phone and ignored him.

This journey was taking forever. We eventually drove through Shiplake and finally the Reading Road. As we approached the Tesco roundabout I heard a little buzzer and then a sign to say the bus was stopping. And the bus did stop. I stood up and asked the driver if the bus stopped further along the reading road. He grunted in a deaf kind of way. I sat again and an old man asked me if he should press the buzzer. Having no idea what he was talking about I said yes. The bus travelled another 100 yards and then stopped. All eyes were upon me. I had no choice but to get off the bus even though it was a good walk back to my house. I thanked the driver. And the old man. I disembarked.

It was 6.15pm. I had been on buses for over 2 hours. I’d eaten a whole packet of extra strong mints. My head ached and I the smell of cheese and onion was embedded in my nostrils. I tried hard not to grab my front bottom as the urge to pee my pants was strong.
At 6.28 I put the key in the keyhole. Misty my faithful yet crusty cat came to greet me. With her tail in the air she rubbed her bottom along my ankles and purred loudly. I kicked her off and found the girls in the kitchen. They were high on chocolate and dancing on chairs. I fell onto the sofa and thanked the almighty I had made it home. In one piece.

As I sipped my claret I relayed my traumatic journey home to Carolyn. She scoffed at my dilemma and suggested I was a ponce. Misty once again found me and jumped onto my belly. My stroking her helped me to unwind a little and before long I was on my second glass having forgotten my journey.

After an evening of stroking my pussy and drinking wine I decided to hit the deck. I was shattered. I was traumatised. I felt violated and a little cruel about giggling at the Indian bottle opener. I felt the need to sneeze and itched my nostril. It was then I realised I had cat shit on my hands.

Misty you little fucker!!

I’m not in the ruddy mood

 

At 05.30am I was awoken by my ginger ninjas. They screeched and wailed in unison from their bedroom like banshees – I joined them screaming in pain as I found, to my despair, my left eyelid was stuck shut!! I tried to open it slowly but the pain was immense. I swore loudly. And then again. I believe this glue eye is a casualty of the menopause. Along with hot flushes, headaches, short fuse, dryness between your garden of Eden and a whole history of other ailments I won’t go into as it just makes me so ruddy angry!! I sprayed my eye with some special liquid I had purchased from Boots, it had cost me £7 ruddy quid, and continued to try and prise open my eye. Vivien, aged 4, sat staring at me. Ruby, her twin sister ignored me. Misty my faithful yet crusty cat was kneading me violently, her purr deep, her breath foul, and her scabs falling. I flicked them onto the floor, managed to open my gluey left eye and sipped my tea. Vivien was still staring at me. She announced sadly and in a whisper I could barely hear that I was not her friend. I was too old. I hissed, kicked off the cat and went to my bathroom to read Diva. I heard Carolyn scream I’d been on the loo for fucking ages and she was now leaving for London. I was informed, rather rudely may I say, that I needed to dress the children, feed the children, brush their teeth and take them to nursery. I cursed her silently as the front door slammed and sighed heavily. I couldn’t even have a shit in peace these days! Peppa Pig had been replaced with My Little Pony. I could hear Viv & Ruby squealing with delight as they jumped up and down on my bed. I approached the room as Misty shot out like a bat out of hell, eyes wide, tail fluffed up. I went to grab Ruby and trod on one of the wet pull up nappies on the floor. My reptilian toes squelched in their urine and I found myself skidding. I stopped myself head butting Ruby and pulled her off the bed to dress her. 30 ruddy minutes later we are all dressed and ready. I stuffed toast in their mouth. Brushed hair. Brushed teeth. Tripped over Misty. Drop kicked them into the car. Started the car. Turned off the car. Dragged them both back into the house. Sat both on potties. Back to the car. In car and off to nursery we go. At 08.10 I am driving to work. The sky is blue and the day looks promising. And then I hit Reading! The start of the Festival brings in all kinds of people, strange hippy type children who have never heard of America, Cat Stevens or Mr Dylan. Yet they wear the t-shirts proudly. I narrowly missed a dirty looking man with dreadlocks and a vicious looking dog who decided to cross the road in front of me. I had to apply the brakes and as I drove around him I wound down the window and called him a fecking Plonker! Feeling rather nervous and adrenalin pumped I wound up the window and hit the accelerator. 100 yards along the road the traffic light hit red. I hit the deck and made out I was searching for something as the dreadlocked man I had just abused slowly approached the car. I fingered the dirt on the car floor slowly and then hurrah I found an old extra strong mint which I popped into my mouth whilst praying to the Almighty me dreadlock man didn’t recognise the car. When I emerged he was by my window rolling a fag. He looked at me as he licked the rizzla. The lights turned green and the car behind me was tooting. I looked at the man, grinned, hit the volume on the radio and sped away to the sound of the Nolan’s singing I’m in the mood for ruddy dancing. I did not look cool and felt a prat! But I was alive.
I spent the next 20 minutes trying to avoid festival revellers and screaming abuse to all that got in my way. I really did not like Reading at all.  And I dont like Woodley but thats another story altogether.

Day 7. Home alone with the Ninjas

Thunder and lightening. Ruddy ruddy frightening. That is all I can say. At silly o’clock both girls were awake. Misty my faithful yet crusty cat was upon me like a mountain goat, kneading furiously. Clearly rather scared. I lay motionless staring at the ceiling wanting to be anywhere but here. Every boom woke the girls. I was in and out of their room more times than Jolyon’s red wine consumption on a Sunday afternoon. Misty’s gum disease had worsened and the stench from her breath as she kneaded me made want to chuck. At early o’clock both girls screamed my name. The terror was acute, a near fatal wee drip occurred as I leapt from my bed into their room. As I threw myself into their room looking to fight off any fucker messing with my babies I was faced with my ninjas standing in their beds wanting out. I hissed a curse and steered them into my bed. As we lay in bed slurping milk, drinking tea, kneading belly I felt happy in myself knowing that Carolyn was home today. As I placed my arm around Vivien’s neck I stumbled upon a small hard stone, which on further inspection turned out to be the missing poo nugget from Misty’s ass!! Ruddy wonderful!! A fine ending to my week with the ninjas!!

Day 6. Home alone with the Ninjas

A late night for the girls would offer me a lay in this morning. I was giddy with excitement. A full 7 or even 8 hours sleep was before me. I skipped to bed. The first shriek came at 1.25am. A bad dream. At 5.30am Vivien announced she wanted to get up. I hissed no and tried to force her little eyes shut. I crept out, into my bed and closed my eyes. At 05.40am every ruddy body was up, wide awake and demanding milk. Misty my faithful yet crusty cat was kneading my belly and purring deeply. Ruby kicked of her pull up nappy and threw it at me! It missed and hit misty who then dug her claws so deeply into my belly I thought I would die! My reflexes were quick. Misty went flying through the air, her purr replaced with a terror screech so loud it made Vivien cry. Ruby then started to sob. I looked around this room of sobbing ninjas and thought thank ruddy fuck. Carolyn is home tomorrow. Only one day to go. The end.

Day 5. Home alone with the Ninjas

God give me strength! 3 o ruddy clock in morning I’m crawling under Vivien’s cot bed searching for dummy. This exercise is repeated at 5.15am. Naughty Mumma forgot to attach them to ‘Pinkie’ and sodding ‘Bluey’. 6am we are all wide awake and jumping on Mummas bed. Misty my faithful yet crusty cat has a nugget of pooh swinging from a bit of fur below her ass. I watch and wait for it to land. Another puddle of frothy cat vomit greets me in the kitchen. A single blade of grass floats in the middle. I make my tea, make milk for girls, feed cats, slip in froth vomit, burn arm on kettle steam and swear to the Almighty. Back upstairs Ruby has produced a beauty in the potty. The smell so horrid I have to dab a drop of J Malone under my nostril. Vivien is reciting the entire Frozen film. The nugget of poo from Misty’s ass has disappeared! Oh bugger! It’s Thursday. 2 days to go. I’m tired. I’ve lost a nugget of poo. The end!

Day 3. Home alone with the Ninjas.

Awoken at 04.53am. Catflap shut – cat shit on floor! Vivien distressed, Ruby blowing raspberries loudly in my ear. I’m tired. It’s hot. The end!