A Mum on Strike!
It’s official. I’m on strike.
It’s in honour of my birthday, tomorrow. Anyway, prior to 5:15 PM, I had definitely done my bit for today.
So post the somewhat fabricated 5:15 deadline, the girls then had their tea at the greasy spoon up the road: sausages, beans and smiley faces. Pure lard. They went to bed without a bath, despite it being a fairly sticky afternoon and having grubby toes. The kitchen table is littered with paper snippings, Moshi Monster cards, felt-tips and some of my debris… And it’s going to stay like it.
So, ha. Just look at how rebellious I’m being.
Okay, so now I feel a bit better having shared that. Now I can admit that I will actually tidy the kitchen table later, but not until I’ve eaten my dinner, consisting of a glass of red wine (priority) and some pasta and sauce. Daddy Tea is out tonight with his friend, so a no-meat-content meal is acceptable. I’m going for least effort required, hence the pasta.
Sometimes its good to be a slob. And admit it. And even feel a bit proud of it. So yeah, check me out on strike.
I’ll be back to normal again tomorrow because that’s what I do. Being a mummy is enduring, repetitive work, but I’m quite good at it, and I rather like it, even on a very strikey-slobby day.
Now, where’s that glass of wine…