Blimey O’Reilly if any woman is capable of being the cause of her own bother, tis I, my Darling Housekeepers.
Yesterday was the epitome of all that is lovely in the life of a single yummy mummy. Estranged man who woulda been my husband took Finley and his cousin Gabriel for a quick cavort around the Botanic Gardens to say hello to the local parrots while I took off my pinny and wandered up the lane to Kath’s gorgeous kitchen where there was coffee and a crinkly packet of the simple pleasure that is a Teatime Assortment. And there we sat , Kath, Diane and I, moaning and giggling and commiserating with each other over all manner of woes, while I surreptitiously dipped all the fake jammy dodgers into my cornishware mug and felt for once like the world wasn’t spinning itself dizzy but was instead holding a gentle little
And then the phone rang. Could I come home IMMEDIATELY because Marks key was stuck in the lock and he and two whining kids were stranded in the GARDEN and for heavens sake WHY HAVEN’T YOU GOT A BACK DOOR KEY ON YOUR PERSON? And what in the name of all that is holy is wrong with you???
So I said my goodbyes to friends and peace of mind, and dilly-dallied my way back up the lane. And there they were, two Fruit Shoot hyper boys and one miserable ex packed into the sardine can that passes for his car. I fiddled about with the key jammed in the lock and walked over to the car to report that yes indeed it was stuck. And he looked at me in a disappointed fashion that got me all worked up and all of a sudden I was Rambo in wellies, roaring with fury fueled fire, because I AM WOMAN AND I WILL GET US INTO THE HOUSE BY HOOK, LINE OR BLOODY SINKER.
I am woman. And once I bashed my dad so hard I knocked myself out so I can do this. I can use power, will and intellectual might to get into MY house. And failing all that I am going to kick the door so hard it will have no choice but to succumb.
And so that’s what I did. To the astonished stares of passers by in furry hats and a van full of genteel workmen, I lifted my leg up and karate chopped the door. And lo and behold the door opened and lo and behold the glass in the porch smashed and fell out and lo and behold you wouldn’t blame me if I called time on the farce that is my life right this very minute now would you?
But I am woman. And I am independent and capable. So I walked back to the car and informed man and children that the door was now open and if they would accompany me back to the house I would escort them over the broken glass and into the cosy comfort of my living room.
Then I handed Mark a lovely pair of pink leather gloves and sent him out to deal with the glass, called my Dad and ordered his services and a piece of hardboard 36 by 48, put child to bed, ate my
My Darling Mr Nice… Ever been karate chopped into next week?
I AM WOMAN. HEAR ME ROAR.
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You keep on roaring mighty woman! Sometimes the world needs a good swift kick in the door!
Yeah, I’ll bet that felt good to have the door give way…right up and until the glass shattered. Oh dear!”Mr. Nice” does not sound so nice at all. I’d love to hear next how he gets a karate chop into next week.
Oh Lordy!watch out Charlies Angels! Mr Nice? mr Nice? I dont think so!!!!P.S Poor Amy! did you think she was just nervous or off her face again?
You go girl! That is how to get things done…. I bet you felt COOL?!Hmmm. I really wanted Amy Winehouse to be GOOD, I really did, but hells bells….. I don’t know if nerves can be responsible for that kind of involuntary leg spasm can they?! Poor girl. Bravo to her backing band for trying to keep time with her too though eh?!
Hope the door gets fixed again asap – and try not to even get riled by ‘that look’ meant to shrivel us Mothers at a hundred paces – he hardly did the ‘macho’ thing to save the day did he, skulking in a sulk in his car???? Guess he has to go home feeling all useless – again! Poor old thing….
You go, Alison!!! I love it that you kicked open the door then proceeded to delegate the clean up and repair to the men!! And I’d tell that “Mr. Nice” to stick it where the sun don’t shine!! That you and little Finley come as a set ~ xxoo, Dawn
Wow, it didn’t take long for Mr. Nice to reveal himself, did it? Just remember what Maya Angelou said, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them.”It’s apparent I’m midwestern American and don’t speak the King’s English because I need some translation:
– pinny
– jammy dodgers
– fruit shooter
I greatly enjoy your writings. A publisher should snatch up a talent such as yours.
Ah, you made my day Alison! What a great post! Forget Mr. Nice, you don't need him!
Good riddance to bad rubbish! (aka Mr Not-at-all-Nice)
I hope his gracious offer was declined.
Wooh Hoo! 🙂
Sounds like Mr. Nice is really Mr. ARSE! I certainly hope you refused his “gracious” offer…Good for you woman! Roar more often!!
Sigh. better to know now rather than later. although that doesn’t make it any less painful. Luckily he wasn’t there to deliver the message as I doubt your Dad would have managed to repair him with one piece of plywood.For La Chouette:
Pinny = Apron
Jammie Dodger: http://www.nicecupofteaandasitdown.com/biscuits/previous.php3?item=14
fruit shooter: children’s drink. May or may not be full of chemicals depending on the brand.
You go girl!!!
There really are “nice” men out there…I hope one of them has the sense to find his way to your door…and soon!What would he be like, if you could cut and paste a collage of your ideal man?
Well done. I have given you a little award over at my blog.
I didn’t see Amy Winehouse at the Brit Awards, but the papers said she gave a flawless performance. Apparently not!Alison, good thing for you Mr. Nice showed his true self this early in the game. You don’t need a user in your life, and good for you for recognizing it. Someday I’ll tell you the story of the weird academic I dated before I met my husband–I spent the whole time thinking his odd responses were my fault, when I woke up one day and said, nope, he just has issues. It seems like you are smarter now than I was then!
Best
Anna Marie
I didn't see Amy Winehouse at the Brit Awards, but the papers said she gave a flawless performance. Apparently not!Alison, good thing for you Mr. Nice showed his true self this early in the game. You don't need a user in your life, and good for you for recognizing it. Someday I'll tell you the story of the weird academic I dated before I met my husband–I spent the whole time thinking his odd responses were my fault, when I woke up one day and said, nope, he just has issues. It seems like you are smarter now than I was then!
Best
Anna Marie
PS: Mr Nice arrogantly assumes you deem him worthy of helping bring up the most amazing little boy in the world…… poor deluded fool.
Sigh. better to know now rather than later. although that doesn’t make it any less painful. Luckily he wasn’t there to deliver the message as I doubt your Dad would have managed to repair him with one piece of plywood.
For La Chouette:
Pinny = Apron
Jammie Dodger: http://www.nicecupofteaandasitdown.com/biscuits/previous.php3?item=14
fruit shooter: children’s drink. May or may not be full of chemicals depending on the brand.
A cad and a bounder. If it weren’t for trusty reliable fathers, we’d lose faith.
Sounds very similar to my last couple of days, excluding Mr. Nice, whom I feel should be thrown out the window =) Blessings… Polly
oooh nasty piece of work there isn’t he? Sounds like Mr Nice (not) could use being karate chopped out of your life.
I could so see you doing this as I read…Remember, men are like fine wine. They start out as grapes and it’s up to women to stomp them into something acceptible to have dinner with… 😉
kicking the door in- that's great!and Mr.Nice…hope u get rid of him too.
You did great Alison, I’d always wanted to try that kick on a door trick. You made me think of that song “I’m from the land down under” where… “women roar and doors shatter”.Mr. Nice doesn’t deserve his name I see.
You have a beautiful website. Thank you for sharing with us.
Wonderful, you go girl..Now the next thing to kick is Mr. Not-so-Nice…I love reading your blog. Katiehttp://hummingbirdchats.blogspot.com/
Hilareous! this is so funny, so true….and, I would say Mr. Nice is not so nice.
Sounds like Mr nice is heading the same way as the door that got kicked into touch.You go girl 😉
Racheal x
Mr Rude and Thoughtless more like – phoning you at 11:30pm without a thought that he might wake you or your baba up.Are good manners dead? Do their mother’s not teach them these simple touches of consideration?
What a twit. Not good enough for you. Not by a long way…..
My daughter and I have just stumbled on your blog and had the complete and utter hesterics…GO GIRL.
I just love your blog and the graphics you use or just priceless!
I just love your blog and the graphics you use or just priceless!