BF in charge of food Friday night (well, in charge of peeling potatoes) so I don�t need to go into too much detail about how there were enough spuds to stave off an Irish famine at the Palace of Many Sins. I am now resigned to the fact that one pack of sausages is not enough to feed my family and have started buying two. There were none left over. The fat bastards.
Went to the School Christmas Fete Worse than Death on Saturday (after diving) with Jooj and Treacle. Spent an astonishing amount of money on glittery shite � including a distinctly�.ummmm� chunky candleholder made by Treacle�s own hands. Unfortunately her skill at the potters wheel means that the bit where the candle goes in is actually a bit too misshapen to�.ummm�.. hold a candle but there�s plenty of glitter stuck on it and I shall be admiring it and showing it off and using it (if I can shave a candle down into the precise irregular dodecagon shape of the hole its supposed to go in) throughout the festive season. Treacle got her face painted as a lovely spotted dog and her new and spectacular nit infestation meant she was able to do a somewhat better doggy impersonation than one might have wished for, complete with scratching and whining.
Stepfordmum hastened to Asda for advice on best nit killing chemicals � mercifully the children of the lady on the chemist counter had been similarly infested "hundreds of times" and I was able to make the usual jokes about flame-throwers and shaving the little bugger�s heads to something of a kindred spirit.
Pasted the evil smelling goo on my precious babies heads whilst they watched Barbie Swan Lake (Jooj bitching about it the whole time cos she is, like, Waaaay too cool for Barbie now she�s got a Bratz Performance Stage). When the time came to comb it through, I swear I combed a bug out of Jooj�s hair the size of a stag beetle. It was massive. We let it go in the sink and chased it around a bit with the nit comb but it was a nippy little bugger and wouldn�t be impaled. Jooj said it was cruel to chase it around and I should just kill it quickly as it had obviously ingested some of the foul-smelling goo and was probably going "Pwuh, Pwuh, this stuff tastes horrible, my tummy hurts, I feel sick" and she made me feel so bad I put it out of its misery with the back of my thumb nail. Im sure it�s a credible quality, but does anyone else find it a bit odd that someone should feel pity for a head-louse?
Boiled the girls� pillow cases for three hours in a pan on the stove in a mixture of Vim, Iodine and surgical spirit then baked in a high oven for an hour and a half just in case I�d missed one of the little blighters hiding in the Egyptian weave waiting for their chance to sneak back onto their scalps as they slept.
Used some of the left over potatoes to stretch a teeny bit of smoked fish into fishcakes for four. Oh how I wish I could afford to serve fish more often. We all love it, but its just TOOO expensive.
Sunday was a bit of a family day � working on Jooj�s Endangered Species project and making a costume for Treacle�s school play. So Im now a world authority on the Giant Panda and can fashion a clockface from an old cardboard box. Yay my life�s so exciting!
Spent Monday in a heightened state of excitement over the thought of a night alone with the lovely BF � wee girlies having disappeared off to Shagnasty�s for a couple of days. Wore fishnets to work and drifted off into reverie once of twice thinking about BF snagging his rough old geetar fingers on them. Nipped in the pub when BF finished teaching and managed to down an obscene amount of whiskies, rendering me unable to walk home without slipping on the leaves, falling in the bushes and generally making a bit of a tit of myself. Once back at The Palace, sneaked off to the bathroom to change into a jolly fetching pair of beaded-crotch knickers, not an easy task when one considers that standing on one leg was definitely something of an issue and putting on knickers without at some point standing on one leg was even more of an issue.
Had already tidied up the topiary before I went out so the knickers didn�t look too much like someone had inadvertently draped a necklace over an untidily thatched cottage. Despite the fact that I was too drunk to smoke a joint and the best I could do for conversation was to whine "LetsgotobedNOW", I managed to be gorgeous in the boudoir � I think BF mistook my drunken "eyes half closed" countenance for smouldering sex-goddessness, but we�ll skate over that bit. It was nice to be back to our old tricks (and some delicious new ones).
Most Grievously hungover on Tuesday. Not the "ballbearing in the skull cavity" type, but more the type of hangover that makes everything just feel a bit horrid and queasy. Kissed BF before leaving for work and my parting shot of "your hair smells of girl goo" had him sniggering most mightily as the Mondeo and I skittered up the road. I always feel a nice wheelspin first thing in the morning just lets the neighbours know that you havent died in the night.
Staggered out to the sandwich van at 9.30 pathetically bleating "Carb me or kill me". Luckily the sandwich lady settled on the former and after the requisite chicken and mushroom pie and smoky bacon crisps I was starting to feel a bit more able to face the day. I thought I was fine but The Incredible Sulk complained about the swearing in the office so I figure I was not completely up to full strength. I think she was just expecting me to go "oooooh, get YOU" but I was totally responsible and asked Slave and Capt Skiver if they would mind moderating their language as if others found it offensive it was creating an uncomfortable atmosphere and that wasn�t appropriate. After she�d gone home, Capt Skiver, Slave and I discussed acceptable and non-acceptable language:
Acceptable: Bum, Pooh, Willy, Boobies
Non Acceptable: Piss Flaps, Hairy Bollocks, Top Bollocks, Sweaty Bollocks, Fuck, Cocksucker (for Slave!), Cum Stains, Buttfuck, Wank, Wanker, Wankerene (as an equal opportunities employer), Wank Mag and, bizarrely, Shitburger.
Im sure we�ll come up with some more as the week goes on.
Jooj in tears when I got home tonight having been bullied again at school. Despite her obvious distress she has begged me not to phone her aggressors mum as "She�s really strict mum and she hits K and I don�t want anything bad to happen." My kids are angels. We have agreed to leave it 24 hours before I consider going to the school and raising merry hell.
Treacle won a competition at school to design a Christmas Pizza for the local Pizza House. Her prize? To have her pizza as the official Christmas Pizza of the Pizza House, made to her specification for all to purchase, with 25% of the takings going to the school, for the whole of the festive season. And the winning design? A Christmas Robin "made of pepperoni, with some green pepper for the grass and a beak made out of sweetcorn". I knew that expensive private prepschool education would pay off some day. Im Soooo proud.
BF has been trawling the net for something fabulous to buy me for Christmas. His best idea so far is a spanking dress. Seems to be a fairly regular dress (albeit made of shiny plasticy stuff) with a strappy buckly bondagy back and a big hole for Stepfordbutt to poke out ready for spanking. Oh, he buys the sweetest gifts.
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