Sunday, 4 December 2011

Things that have irritated me today

So I wanted to tell you about the things that have irritated me today, so here we go.

Its not often I get the chance to really relax in the bath. I had it all planned today. I would run myself a deep bath with my new ginger bubble bath. N.B It is 'bubble bath', not bath creme, bath soak, cream bath, bath foam or anything else poncey that you fancy calling it. It's similar to calling deodorant 'armpit freshner' or washing up liquid 'delightful dish de-greasener'.

So I run my bath, get my Nigella's Christmas cook book from the utility room and settle down for a good read. As we all do, I like to top the bath up from the hot tap, using my big toe. I also block the overflow thingy with my heel to ensure the bath is rim height. 

So here I am fully relaxed, planning when to make my chili jam and I feel that the bath is cooling.  As far as I'm concerned you should be able to cook a lobster in your bath water, any cooler and the whole thing is pointless.

So I turn on the tap (with my toe) and wait for the heat to hit me. No heat! If anything the bath is cooling down.  I experimentally swish my toe under the tap. I'm dicing with death here, our water is normally hotter than the surface of the sun.  Nothing.  I go back in. Still nothing.  I'm being bold here but I hold my toe under the stream of water and am met with luke warm, at best, water. I turn the tap off and seethe with anger. If I was in a cartoon my boiling anger would heat up the water and steam would pour from my ears.  As this isn't a cartoon I find myself sitting in what is now a tepid bath.  Dear reader.  I'm livid


1)  I never ever have the time for a long soak. I have long, curly hair and my plan was to soak for a while then wash my hair and rinse it with the shower.  There is no hot water because Phil and Joe have both had showers. Phil has a number one all over his ridiculous head and Joe has really short hair. Their showers should have at most taken 3 minutes each tops.  Phil was in the shower for 15 minutes, Joe was in there for 20. That coupled with the fact we have a power shower, they've basically used enough water between them to run 'Wet and Wild' on a busy Sunday!

2) I'm now sat in a tepid bath with unwashed hair. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. I either spend the day with unwashed hair but a clean body, or I bite the bullet and wash my hair in icy water. Being that its minus 15 outside (my estimate) I decide to go with greasy hair. I hope it smells like sheep, Phil and Joe deserve it.

I know I'm getting new Ugg's for Christmas but for now I'm wearing last Christmases.  Because it's cold and I have to walk the dog I put on my Uggs.  Imagine my surprise when I notice that instead of being all warm and snug, they are huge and drafty.  Worse still I get halfway to the field when one of them falls off my foot.  I put it back on and within two steps the other one falls off.  To combat this I end up shuffling to the field.  To an innocent bystander I no doubt look like a woman who has/or is about to soil herself. I'm muttering under my breath, cursing my stupid boots. I'm watching my feet and everytime I lift my foot off the ground my boot starts to slip off. I have no choice but to go back to the demented shuffle. It takes me ages to get anywhere so I discover that sliding my feet along is quicker. Although it's quicker, I now look like a lunatic who is pretending to ice skate. That coupled with my unwashed hair and the furious muttering I notice people crossing over the road to avoid me.

When I return home I find Joe in a frenzy. He's bare foot and is clearly looking for something. No sooner have my Uggs fallen off my feet (size 7) he's snatched them up, popped them on his size 11's and gone upstairs.  I follow him and learn that for the last 3 weeks he has been wearing my Uggs as slippers.  Apparently they were 'snug' at first but they seem to have stretched a bit.

I quietly leave the room, find one of my wellies and beat him to a pulp with it.

The boys play a lot of COD. Apparently they're good at it. They can hit a zombie from half a mile away. They're also competitive, neither of them miss the bin when they throw things at it. When they pour themselves drinks they don't spill a drop. So this begs the question.....


Earlier, when I got out of my lukewarm bath I happened to look at the bathroom floor. I cleaned said floor on Wednesday, and properly mind you.  If you see my earlier blog you'll know it was bleached to within an inch of it life. So there I am, looking down and I'm horrified to see yellow stickiness on the floor around the toilet. I'm not one of life's optimists so I instantly rule out the chance that someone has been watching Aggie and Kim and realised that lemon juice is a smashing substitute for bleach.

I'm very well aware that what I'm looking at is urine. I'd call it something else but my parents read this blog so I really don't want to take the piss.  But there you have it, that's what it was. I get the mop and bucket and add lots of bleach and wash the floor then I have a moment of worry.


1) How will either of them be able to lead fully functioning lives if they're incapable of something as basic as hitting the toilet
2) What if their problems with accurately weeing is only the tip of the iceberg.  What if they start pooing on peoples floors. Should I make sure they carry dog poo bags everywhere with them.
3) Will I need to order some male pantie pads so that weeing can be done 'in house' and they won't need to bother with toilets at all

I'll probably just buy more bleach.

No wonder I drink!

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