Skip to main content

Incidents that happened between January and March

Well, strictly speaking for the pedants out there, the tail end of December (28th to be precise).

Picture this, the gluttonous after festive period where you don't know what day or even month it is. You only know you're not due back in work yet. I jest, student midwifery is relaxing to the holiday period as a naked streaker in a lion pit.... happily putting away the to-do list until the 3rd load of Christmas pots have been soaked for another day. There is wine. Lots of wine. And a debit card.

So here I am. In France. With an over stimulated over tired (and quite frankly far too fidgety for the metal bunk bed I'm laying perilously underneath) Small. A shit ton of shopping in the hope that I shan't spend a small fortune in Disneyland tomorrow, and a snow white dress placed just so. Because I did really well at the not feeding into this crypto-facist-fake-forced-stereotyped-gender Disney princess shit... (Wifeyo, 2019 -ta Rhi!)



Not quite the comedy of errors as my last drunken holiday buying escapade, we may only hope.
Time will tell.

She managed a pose or two at least, and 15000 steps before turning in, 3 trains, many silent 'thank yous' to the Giffgaff gods for my data and GPS support, I shan't be taking any tired legs shit when we got the motherland on Sunday. Enough to know that my shoes are crap and I'd have done better strapping some tyres to my tired cankled feet for the next 5 days.




Bon nuit. (I'm being classy because I'm annoyed at myself for not being awake enough to sample the mystery wine I slipped in the basket earlier).

I'm preempting Technicolor nightmares already....


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Holiday blues

 A month down the line.  It's hard to believe that a month ago today we were both well in the depths of the most horrific long haul flight I'd never imagined I'd be mopping sick up on, navigating tiny aisles and even tinier seats with my lardy arse, or that we were about to embark on a holiday of a lifetime.  Let alone, be stuck on the other side of the world in charge of a frothing loud and hyperactive Small for ten days, with not even a sniff of another responsible adult to take the slack.  But we did, and it's done. And it's been really weird being home. Japan is the only place that less-than-stable 20-something me would've easily spontaneously gotten on a plane and never returned from, and I'm feeling the pull still even as a semi-conscious semi-adult 30-something, so it must have been decent. We've acquired this cute little mama-Small delusion where we'll still faux plan a day exploring the suburbs, like we're waltzing around bustling Ueno r

Day 5- Christmas: Suits, gin-sweats and Christmas pyjamas

What other day can you justify spending the whole day in pyjamas? We've gone full on British with it today, cue odd looks from a hotel full of conference attendees (a conference, on Christmas Day?!) in the restaurant, which is getting far more luxurious looking by the day. There’s a distinct increase in the food which cannot be named, but I’m uncertain if its for the benefit of the Tits-and-Teeth and Suits clicking and murmuring in disgust at Small as she's quite vocally rejecting anything to eat. My new game, meet the shameful stares of the ‘my-child-would-never-do-thats’ with the same unabashed defiance of the toddler that so disturbs the enjoyment of their carefully portioned continentals, so as not to stain their perfect pearly whites or set them off-balance from their skyscraper Carvellas. It’s rather effective, may try this back at home. The electric piano is adorned with executive looking flyers (still disconnected) and we pile through the hoards of First-class sc

Day 6: See, I'm not always whining! I could even (after enough booze) book something similar again!

Distinct lack of Insta-twats today, apart from their little paddy this evening, slamming doors and shouting profanities whilst walking away. Not sure what it reminds me of most, the Toddler in the midst of rage or the Teabag that was. Only difference is one pisses herself when she gets angry that she can’t understand (and the other.... we'll just leave that there). We’ve had a really awesome day. And I’ve got that warm fuzzy feeling that oxytocin, reconnecting with my Small piece, and having too much gin to put in the case home- brings. So this will either be short and sweet, or ridiculously boring. Either way I’m sure the blog will be falling by the wayside, as far less shits are given when things go better than expected. And let’s just say here, the bar was definitely set with the demonstrable shitstorm that the past 4 days have been, so in advance for our lack of catastrophe, I apologise. I managed to buy not one but two pairs of shoes today, mentally resolving to not g