Please find below exactly why this growing your hair thing is one of the stupidest ideas I ever had...
Because I cannot be trusted with long hair! So there I am idly chatting with my mother, when she starts waffling on about how chuffed she is with girl child's hair rollers not realizing how many there are, now I confess that as usual I'm only half listening to what it is she's saying while psycho analyzing how I am going to cope without Matt Smith and what I'm going to do this weekend, so I reply with words to the effect of "lets put them in and give her curls like that one off eastenders".
While I am doing this I have picked up the curly hair brush and absent mindedly wrapped it around my so called fringe. At this point I am aware that said brush appears to be stuck in my hair and actually it hurts quite a bit. Hubby is also in the room and misses nothing I am nothing if not stubborn so I wave the brush around a bit and pretend like everything is normal, which is when both mum and hubby exchange that look before broaching whether I am ok? "I'm fine" I exclaim while trying to blink back the tears that are threatening to fall, I have a bloody hair brush stick in my stupid hair and my arm hurts from trying to keep it in the air so as to relieve the pressure on my scalp. PEOPLE it is like an instant headache.. like someone put their fingers in my temples and pushed excessively, plus I am starting to panic that I am going to have to wear this damn brush in my hair forever and wear a hat to hide it. This worries me further because finding a hat big enough to cover it is going to make me look like I have an appendage stuck to my head and their will be a squillion jokes about being a dick head, and people will take me even less seriously than they do now.
Finally I give in and once they finish laughing excessively before realizing the urgency of my situation they get to work. Now as a child I had real issues with my mum touching my head or hair, and this is in part because I have a very sensitive head and others brushing my hair genuinely hurts which is why I prefer to do it myself. It used to drive my mother mad but of course I was too young to verbalise it then so she just marked it down on her "more difficult things my daughter does" list and branded me as naughty. I will give her her dues, she was sensitively trying to remove the hairbrush from my hair and questioning as to "why why would you do this you stupid child?" and hubby was trying not to die from laughter and then asking "how old are you? this is the kind of thing five year olds do" I began to note the tremor in her voice that suggested that I was about to lose my hard grown (and unwanted) fringe. There were discussions about Stanley blades and clippers between the two of them, my head was exploding and I was distinctly embarrassed, I had several hot flushes and just wanted to drink myself into a state where hairbrushes were cool! Now I am the queen of over exaggeration or as I prefer to think embellishment but trust me when I say it took the two of them a good 15 minutes to remove it, including hubby holding my head in the manner of someone needing sedation and mum getting excited every time she removed an individual strand from the brush of doom. Once it was done hubby suggested that maybe I would want to brush my hair while mum disposed of said hair brush. I did attempt to argue my case on this 33 things and growing my hair and why I shouldn't what with the afro and now apparently brush eating hair, but have been informed that since I'm probably not going to make the whole 33 that I ought to stick with the hair growing, cue excessive sulking.
Oh yeah going back a little we had New year... Here's some random photo's that suggest JUST how much fun we had....,
WHO let this child grow up??? and yes she stole my shoes :(
Boy child who decided that a suit was appropriate (meaning I still can't get him to wear anything other than his onesie or this...)
Hubby has deiced that in his old age and while I get chubbier and more aged that he's taking the role of the hot one in this relationship.... I kind of can't disagree
Foolishly after this sample of photo's I asked them for a loving family photo...
They gave me this and in hindsight I should have seen it coming...
I gave up at this point... but girl child continued her "photo bombing" skills...
All in all New Year's Eve.... nailed it....
In other news I quit my job on Thursday which if I had done it in a reckless Tabs kind of way would have been "totes amazeballs" but as some of you may remember I got an actual new job way back in October which I am still waiting to start. I had a bit of a strop (okay fine a huge one) in the office when I pointed out that a) I was the only one who got stiffed with the Christmas shifts and being a conformist I actually went to the actual office rather than worked from home even though no other (appropriate swear word here fine FUCKER) bothered, also that since my team disbands on the 31st of March that if I don't hand my notice in I'll end up getting redeployed into another new job while I wait for my actual job. Possibly not one of my smarter moves since I could still end up with NO job at all but I had, had enough at that point... plus I worked from home... after realizing in my my post strop flounce that I had left my power cable at work. Thank god for duplicate chargers and smart hubbys... SO in theory I finish on the 28th of March and start my new old job on the 31st, also side confession I had to quit because the idea of starting my new job on April's fools day given my daily experience of just being me didn't sit well with me.
Hubby in what I assume to be an attention seeking move on his part has spent most of the day flinging himself backwards and through doorways. Now in this house it's all about me or I'm not interested... we all know this which is why both small people use the mantra "if mamma ain't happy ain't no one gonna be happy" so I ignored him for the best part of ooh an hour. There was a moment when I decided I needed to read more so I went upstairs to read, which apparently hubby couldn't stand the quiet as he came upstairs and passively aggressively harassed me out of reading by again flinging himself about like a fish out of water. I gave in eventually and asked what it was he was doing... turns out he was being Matt Smith's Doctor since hubby wanted to work out the dynamics of why he doesn't have some kind of back injury from running around the Tardis in a cartoon like manner. Hubby was quite chuffed with himself and has spent the rest of the day announcing "come along King" like he actually is a time lord and my name has changed to Amelia (which unless he went down to the registery office and did it by deed poll it hasn't) I'm leaving him to it but pointing out that it's not just me with the obsessional behaviors....
Other news... I am all about the colouring this year, this is in part because my buddy went and got dead expensive no actual children pens (read on my part: Jealous) but this has inspired me into getting out the pro markers and having a play, yes I am regressing but at least I won't be sat in my nursing home wishing I had done more colouring:
Which leads nicely onto yet another discussion with my hubby in which I was discussing the future (I do like to be grown up sometimes) and saying that when I am old and of care home needs that I want to break the rules and share a room and even a bed in said care home. Hubby said "no way" (direct quote people) when I inquired into why he stated that a life time with me means he should at least get some peace and quiet and his own room. In fact as it turns out when we get to that stage of life he'd like to be in different homes in different countries, which I think is a bit dramatic. I decided to explore a bit further:
WARNING THIS NEXT PART IS BOTH GROSS AND CRASS SO IF EASILY OFFENDED LEAVE THIS PAGE AND COME BACK TOMORROW
(DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU)
me: but wont it be nice to have people wait on us hand and foot while we sit and be really rude old people
hubby: how would that be nice, you come home everyday moaning about care homes
me: I do not
hubby: yes you do, just the other day.... (I tuned out while he made a valid point and quoted what I said about 3 days ago)
me: well yes but lets be honest, we are going to end up in homes, both small people hate us most of the time, and moan about making even a cup of tea, can you imagine them looking after us when we are old... would you even want them to? I mean really really?
hubby: (after significant pause) okay but I really would like my own room
me: what for?
hubby: well you know respite maybe?
me: we could have separate beds how's that? don't you think it would be romantic to be the cantankerous couple who give the young un's hell, you can keep your xbox in the bedroom and we'll keep our dentures side by side on the nightstand
hubby: well I do worry about that
me: you can take your xbox its fine, well assuming we still have that kind of thing then...
hubby: no the dentures....
me: we won't care by then
hubby: it's not that, I'm just frightened of waking up in the night to find you've put my dentures in your lady parts just for the laugh and then damaging yourself and it being my fault
me: (silence)
hubby: SEE! you can't even deny that you wouldn't do it!
In other news I think I may have mentioned that we finally got mum her pink boots for Christmas because I couldn't handle the pressure, support groups and potential riots; so here's a little photo story for those of you who campaigned on her behalf:
I left this last picture the biggest because it was at this point that she pulled herself up by her bootstraps and nearly fell off the sofa...
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