Pa-ranting

Ahem… hi… I’m back and I can type (and edit copy) again. Sober Koekie. Drinking is very exciting in my world, it would seem.

So after winding my way home on Friday, I discovered that Boyfriend had gone out without me. How rude. I entertained myself by watching terrible movies like Little Shop of Horrors (Feeeed meeeeee, Seeeymour) and then went to bed/passed out. I woke up to hear Boyfriend coming home and I decided it was as good a time as any to pick a fight… Boyfriend eventually managed to get to sleep, but I remedied that problem by sitting on him, prodding him and telling him to “Communicate… COM-MU-NI-CATE.”

He loves me.

Before heading off to a pool party on Saturday, I flooded the kitchen by opening the washing machine when it hadn’t finished draining. Turns out there’s a lot of water in that little contraption. Ever the baboon, I did the same thing on Sunday morning.

Omigosh… I was going to move on from Sunday, but here comes the rant session. Why do people breed if they have no inclination to raise the offspring? See, we went to the Bot Gardens yesterday. Lovely day, chilling in the park…

Until Fat Mamma and her beeyatch arrived. Fat Mamma and Hubby had four children – the oldest was about 5, the youngest was about 6months old. You do the maths.

The kids names were Luke, Joshua, (something indistinguishable) and Screaming baby. I know because the couple spent most of their morning going, “Luuuuuuuke, come back here! Josh… Josh! No, get off that!”

It was mostly Fat Mamma sitting on her ass at the top of the hill screeching, while her Bitch ran around at the bottom of the hill trying to gather a toddler under each arm. In a way, I’m grateful that Fat Mamma stayed at the top of the hill, because had she moved the recovering 2004 tsunami victims may have felt the repercussions.

You might have noticed, I don’t like young kids and I REALLY don’t like people who can’t control young kids. At one stage, precious Luke actually came and stared at me from behind a tree about 30cm away. I felt a similar revulsion to when I stand on a squishy bug – but this could have been due to the smell that was exuding from dear Luke’s nappy. Think Roald Dahl’s The Witches… I have a similar aversion to children. Especially badly behaved ones.

Maternal, me? What biological clock?

As I sat, trying to avoid breathing through my nose, Fat Mamma’s bitch came to collect the monster. The father whipped him away threatening to give him a smack if he didn’t behave… and Luke laughed. Affective parenting 101. When your kids laughing to your face, at the age of 3… you’ve got problems.

Please don’t get me wrong, I’m talking about discipline – not abuse. But I pity the foolish offspring who tries to laugh at me one day. It won't happen. And for this reason, I have no desire to procreate.

A friend once told me that any child I breed should be confiscated at birth. I fully support the motion.

Moving on from my opinionated views….

After burning my finger in the hair straightener this morning, I felt I was good to go for a Monday. There was also a tree across our road – not a few branches, a tree. I think it rained solidly from about 8pm last night to about 4am, and then some more.

Two hours later, Boyfriend called me to inform me that he couldn’t get out of the house – not because of the tree but because he couldn’t find his keys…. Which I found in my car’s cubby hole. I didn’t even know they were there.

I then got to sit in the traffic and the rain, in order to get home and let my Boyfriend (looking like a monkey in a cage) out of the flat. He’s lucky I like him. On the upside, I got to listen to the Rude Awakening for the first time in about 6months.