Dreams Can Come True If You Write to Santa
A few weeks ago I wrote to Santy, begging for a “stay of execution” and either there really is a fat, white guy with a long white beard, huge belly, and an ill-fitting red suit, or my company read my letter and thought “Oh I know! We’ll totally botch up the whole thing so that she ends up extending her maternity leave!”
Yes, I’m back on maternity leave till April and I’ve gone and made an outlandish promise to the boyf that I’m going to be a brilliant housewife. Sure, he’ll have forgotten all about my wild promises before the week is out….Well at least I hope so! There’s not much time for surfing t’internet when you actually do all the housework that you should. I looked at the basket of ironing for the hundredth time in God knows how many months, and I’m seriously contemplating using and ironing service and then removing any evidence by giving them a slight rumple…
The bambino has stopped being suspicious of me. She had a great time with the childminder on Monday and Tuesday but each time she came home she was quite pissy with me and I think it’s because she twigged that she hadn’t seen me all day. The first time she went with the childminder, she gave me this look that said “What the f do you think you’re doing?” and then scowled at me. The boyf came in a moment later and I asked him if she scowled at him too but apparently she blew him a raspberry.
I phoned a few times and she was happy as Larry. “Doesn’t she miss me?” I wailed to the boyf.
Then when she finally arrived home, she took one look at me and screamed the place down, scrambling out of the woman’s arms to get to me. “Ha! She’s redeemed herself!” I said with a giggle to the boyf.
But today it was back to normal and there was no more childminder. She eyed me suspiciously all morning and as a final act of punishment, she quietly threw up all over my feet and herself. Cheeky little thing!
My ma said to me “How does it feel to be unemployed?” I don’t understand my ma sometimes. I could explain things till the cows come home but smoke might come out of my ears. You’d never know she’s had 4 kids of her own. It’s not like she gave birth to us in Victorian times when there was no such thing as ‘maternity leave’. Jaysus!
I am soooooooooooooo excited! M and I are going to see Chris Rock on Friday whilst the boyf has a poker night. I actually had no idea till Alan from Random Burblings mentioned it. It is a measure of how out of things I am that I had NO idea that he was coming. After spending more time than I care to remember on the phone to Ticketmaster trying to buy non-existent tickets, Alan hooked us up! Woohoo! I’m dirty laughing already!
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