Category Archives: Humour

Kwasi Kwarteng’s new job

29 Saturday Oct 2022

Posted by in Humour, Politics

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Good news for all those sending thoughts and prayers to unemployed Kwasi Kwarteng! He’s been able to find a new position very quickly – and by Friday afternoon had actually already started in his new role.

A secret audio-recording of his first assignment has been circulating online, and is reproduced for you here in full.

TRANSCRIPT

Miss Watson: “Right class, this is Mr Kwarteng, and he’s going to be taking your maths lesson today. Let’s give him a really big Rabbits welcome.”

Multiple voices in a chant: “Good afternoon Mr Kwar-teng.”

Miss Watson: “We’re very lucky to be able to welcome Mr Kwarteng to Tavicroft Infant School, and he’s here to teach us about something very important: Growth.

Amir: “Miss! Miss! I’ve grown 2cm since the Summer. My mum says she’s not going to buy me new trousers though because we’ve only had these ones a few weeks.”

Miss Watson: “Gosh that is a lot Amir. Let’s remember that we need to put our hands up before we speak – and NO Caleb, we do NOT use them to do THAT. Let’s all put fingers on heads: Fingers on lips: Hands in our magic basket.

“Now. Who here can tell Mr Kwarteng what we’ve been learning about growth in our maths lessons this week. How do we make small numbers BIGGER?”

[Sounds of hands going in the air and general straining]

Miss Watson: “Mia.”

Emily: [Mumbled] “Adding.”

Miss Watson: “That right, Mia, addition. And Mr Kwarteng is an expert at addition, and has had a lot of experience with money and how it works. He – ”

Mrs Langsett: “Miss Watson! Can I borrow you for a moment?

[Muffled noises and conversation]

Miss Watson: “I’m sorry class I’m just going to have to step out and talk to Mrs Langsett. I’ll leave you in Mr Kwarteng’s capable hands.”

[Miss Watson leaves the room].

Mr Kwarteng: “Um. Right. Right. Nice to meet you children. Who wants to tell me what you’ve been learning about addition?”

[Sounds of hands going in the air and more general straining]

Mr Kwarteng: “Right. Yes. You. What’s your name?”

Joe: “Joe.”

Mr Kwarteng: “And what did you want to tell me about addition, Joe?”

Joe: “Please can I go to the toilet?”

Mr Kwarteng: “Um. Well. Yes, I suppose that’s okay. Off you go. Um. You? What’s your name?”

William: “William.”

Mr Kwarteng: “And is this about addition?”

William: “Yes sir. Addition is when you have some things, and then you have more things and you put them together and you have lots of things.”

Mr Kwarteng: “Very good! That is right – most of the time. But here’s the real thing: sometimes to get more things, especially things like money, you have to take things away first.”

Amanda: “Ooooo Oooooo Oooo me me ME!”

Mr Kwarteng: “Yes?”

Amanda: “Subtraction!”

Mr Kwarteng: “Well, yes. I suppose that IS subtraction, yes. Um. Yes?”

Mia: “I don’t like subtraction. I can’t get the tens to go in the right column.”

Caleb: “I’ve got 10p.”

Mr Kwarteng. “Okay. Well that’s good. That’s a good start. Ok. Right. Let’s try this. What if I gave everyone in here ten apples.”

[Sounds of more hands going in the air]

Mr Kwarteng. “Um – okay, yes? Over there at the back.”

Joshua: “I can’t bite into apples because I’ve got no teeth at the front.”

Mr Kwarteng: “Ah, so I see. Well, yes, that does make it harder, obviously – yes? With the pigtails just here?”

Sita: “Could we have pumpkins? It’s going to be Halloween really soon. I’m going to be a witch. I was a witch last year too. But my dad isn’t made of money, you know.”

Mr Kwarteng: “Well, okay, yes, I suppose I do know that. And yes, we could all have ten pumpkins – yes… William?”

William: “My Grandma doesn’t like Halloween because of Jesus.”

Mr Kwarteng: “Ah. Well. Okay. I think that’s another sort of lesson. Let’s stick to maths shall we? So. You’ve all got ten pumpkins. But you give me one pumpkin each. That’s called taxes. In return I give you the things that everyone needs and can share. Now…here’s the…”

Amanda: “Mine are going to be witch pumpkins and they’re going to be really REALLY scary.”

Mr Kwarteng. “Um, okay. Right. Yes – over there at the back?”

Caleb: “Like the shop area? Miss Watson says we have to share the shop area but the girls are always in it and won’t let us play.”

Mr Kwarteng: “Yes, okay. Well. That’s right. But sharing is good… So we all get to use that area – because I provide it using the apples you give me. Now. Let’s say that everyone on the back row has 20 apples.”

Amanda: “Sir! Sir! I thought it was pumpkins.”

Mia: “Why can’t I have 20 pumpkins? That’s not fair.”

Mr Kwarteng: “Ah, but now the people with 20 pumpkins will have more pumpkins and they’ll put more pumpkins into the shop, so everyone will benefit.”

Caleb: “I’m not putting my pumpkins into the shop because the girls are always in it. I’m taking my pumpkins home with me.”

Sita: “Sir – it’s a cake shop!”

Joshua: “Sir! Sir! It is NOT. It’s a bakery, Miss Watson said.”

Mr Kwarteng: “Right, right, okay – we’re being distracted by the produce, I think, so let’s… um… let’s say I give everyone £10, and those on the back row £20, and you all give me £1 every month to pay for things we all want. Like teachers – just like Miss Watson.”

[Background murmurs of dissent and jubilation]

Caleb: “I’m going to buy Pokemon cards!”

Sita: “I’m going to get an air up!”

William: “I’m going to buy my Grandma more Universe Credits!”

Amanda: “I’m going to buy a house!”

Joshua: “We were going to buy a house but the Moor Gate fell through so now we’re not.”

Mia [wailing]: “Why don’t I get £20?”

[Much background noise: inaudible].

Amir [loudy]: “Sir, Sir! I’ve got a question Sir!”

Mr Kwarteng [relieved]: “Yes! Good. A question. Yes.”

Amir: “Why are you taking away my money when they’ve got MORE money? Can’t they pay more for the shop and Miss Watson?”

Amanda: “How much IS Miss Watson?”

Caleb: “I’ve got 10p!’

Amanda: “Is this the bit where we take things away to make them bigger in the end?”

Joshua: “He’s not going to take it away from ME.”

William: “That’s not fair, Sir!”

Mr Kwarteng: “Ah, but they’ve worked hard for their extra money, you see? They deserve to keep it because they’ve earned it. Let’s say the people at the back are big companies and employ lots of people. They’re going to use their money to spend and make MORE money, so in the end there’ll be more money in general.”

Sita: “My Daddy is a going to be a company now.”

Amir: “But will I get any? Any of the money?”

Mr Kwarteng: “Um, not technically, no. Unless you work for one of the companies. In which case you’ll get a bit. But you can borrow some money… So let’s say I lend you an extra £5. But you will have to pay me back.”

Caleb: “It’s my birthday tomorrow, can I have £5? I’m getting a dinosaur onesie, too, so we don’t have to turn the heating on.”

Amanda: “Sir, Caleb doesn’t work hard. You just gave him his £20 for no reason. Don’t give him £5. He didn’t even put his book away this morning!”

Caleb: “I did too!”

Mia: “Why can’t I have £25? It’s not fair!”

Mr Kwarteng: “But, um Amir, is it? You have to pay me back £8. And that’s called interest.”

Amir: “But I only got £5!”

Joshua: “I don’t think it’s very interesting.”

Amanda: “I don’t think it’s very fair.”

Mia: “It’s not fair!”

[Straining sounds].

Mr Kwarteng: “Um. But you see… Okay – yes?”

Sita: “Joe hasn’t come back from the loo, Sir, shall I go and fetch him?”

Mr Kwarteng: “Um… okay, yes that would be very helpful.”

William: “Mr Kwerty! Mr Kwerty! Are you very rich? Where are all of the pumpkins and all this money coming from?

Amanda: “We got our pumpkin from Sainsbury’s.”

Mr Kwarteng: “Ah! Yes. Well that’s a very good question. I’m borrowing it too – from lots of other places and people.”

Sita: “Sir, Joe’s had an accident in the toilet and there’s water everywhere.”

Mr Kwarteng: “Um…”

Caleb: “Are they making you pay back more than you borrowed in the first place, Sir?”

Mr Kwarteng: “Well, yes, but it’s more sort of… imaginary money.”

Sita: “Like the money in the shop?”

Joshua: “IT’S A BAKERY!”

Sita [sounds of outrage]: “OW Joshua that hurt. Sir Joshua poked me! Miss Watson says we have to use kind hands!”

Amanda: “Is my £20 imaginary?”

Mia [audible sobs]: “Why don’t I have £20?”

Mr Kwarteng: “Well in a way, all money is imaginary, really… It’s only really worth anything because we all agree it is.””

Caleb: “My 10p isn’t. It’s right here, Sir, Look.”

Joshua: “Sir! Sir! Sita says I’m not invited to her party anymore!”

Mr Kwarteng: “Well, that’s not very kind either, you know, Sita. Loyalty is very important, and if you’re friends – or in a party together – you shouldn’t be stabbing each other in the back as soon as the going gets tough…”

Amir: “When are we starting the adding, Sir?”

Sita: “Joshua keeps stabbing me in the back, Sir!”

Caleb: “I don’t think anything is growing. I don’t have any money OR any pumpkins.”

William: “My Mummy knows a Mr Kwar-twonk. She shouts at him on the radio in the car.”

Amanda: “Sir, Mia is crying because she doesn’t get £20! And she misses her mum because she’s on nights all the time. Is it okay if I give her some of my imaginary £20? She doesn’t have to pay me back if she doesn’t want to. We can share. Like with the shop and the teachers.”

Joshua: “IT. IS. A. BAKERY.”

Sita: “IT. IS. A. CAKE. SHOP.”

Mia [Sobbing]: “It’s… not… fair…”

[Sounds of general chaos ensue]

Mr Kwertang [in desperation, audibly sweating]: “Right, Right Children! CHILDREN! I think we’re getting off the topic, here! ORDER! ORDER!”

Amir [quietly to Caleb and Mia near the microphone under the background noise]: “I don’t think he’s very good at maths, do you?”

Mia: [in a small voice between sniffs]: “I don’t think he’s very nice.”

Caleb [less quietly]: “I can’t remember what lesson we were doing. But I’d rather give my 10p to Miss Watson!”

Miss Watson [entering the classroom]: “WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE? RABBITS!”

[Miss Watson claps out a rhythm]

[Rhythm is repeated by the class. Silence follows].

Miss Watson [quietly]: “Right Rabbits, I want everyone back in their carpet spaces in 5, 4, 3, 2…. THIS MEANS YOU CALEB…. Aaaaaaaaand 1.

Thank you Rabbits. I do NOT expect to leave the classroom for five minutes and for you all to turn into Wild Warthogs. And it is especially rude in front of our new guest teacher!

“Now I want everyone to get a whiteboard from the front, and do the additions on the screen, please. Remember, I want to see you drawing out your tens and ones in lines and dots as we have been practising. Let’s grow these numbers…

“Joe, please go and find your trousers, presumably in the toilets, and come and join us on the carpet.”

Amanda: “But Miss! He gave some us £20 and not others – and then took it away from us just like the pumpkins – and then he cheated Amir and we didn’t do any addition at all.”

Miss Watson: “And we can do it, WITHOUT TALKING, Amanda, thank you very much.”

Mr Kwarteng: “Um. Right. I think I might just step out and have a little word with Mrs Langsett…”

TRANSCRIPT ENDS

Stop the clocks – Queen edit

29 Saturday Oct 2022

Posted by in Humour, Poetry

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Gosh. Well. We’ve lived through a lot of history in recent years, haven’t we?

Like so many others, I was shocked and saddened by the death of the Queen. I will say though, that I have also been a bit amused by some of the the responses from corporations and the authorities…

We may have tipped over an edge where some things have happened more out of cynicism and lemming-ism than out of respect – and some of those things have been a bit mad!

Apart from queuing, there is nothing more British than enjoying the absurd, and I think her Maj might have been a bit tickled, too.

So if you’ve been bemused by the reaction of your favourite pizzeria/fashion brand/bank, or your local barber/garage/council/, this re-write of WH Auden’s famous poem is for you.

xxx


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
Prevent all normal commerce, and surgeries postpone;  
Silence all the check-out beeps, cancel holidays
Shut the food banks down, and halt the carriageways 

Shroud charity-shop mannequins - because ‘out of respect’ 
Line dark cars on the forecourt, shut schools in circumspect
Cease the sale of condoms, end sports of any sort
Play sombre songs in taxis, and conferences abort 

Build shrines of rotting sarnies, tons of flowers and soft toys
Let TV broadcast nothing else, make this the only noise
Clad public figures all in black, and grief-wash social sites
Interview the Z-list for their Queen and King soundbites

MPs! Pause all petitions, end discussion and protest 
Affirm she was your North, South, East, and especially your West;
Distract people from their real woes, stifle mild dissent
Confuse with spectacle and ceremony, and national sentiment 

Let brands of fashion and fast-food flaunt their heartfelt grief
Project her face on buildings, and change all web motifs
Pour away corporate plans, let them do nothing that they would
Have them prove loyalty, humanity, and signal that they’re good

Now vilify indifference, understatement, quiet lament -
For a Grandma passing, and for history suddenly spent;
Never wonder if all the tributes are a bit un-warrented  
Remember, lest we all forget, it’s ‘what she would have wanted.’

UNPRECEDENTED

23 Saturday Jul 2022

Posted by in Humour, Poetry, Politics

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In the year of 2020, 
there came a secondary plague,
A word that entered lexicon
and made us all afraid -

It was on the lips of politicians, 
commentators and news readers
Influencers, Auntie Sue - 
and other minor global leaders.

You know it, Oh of course you do! 
It’s in your mind cemented 
A word you hardly said before - 
the word UNPRECEDENTED!

When a bat-shyt crazy virus, 
swept round the world in weeks
It was UNPRECEDENTED, 
said entomologic geeks.

When millions died and life collapsed 
and we all stayed at home,
When loo roll was our currency 
as we apocolypsed alone

When vaccines rolled out super-fast 
and we were all injected
When we clapped an NHS 
we now suddenly respected -

“We’ve never seen this, blow me down” 
is the way it was presented
The conclusion (and the get-out-clause) 
“This is UNPRECEDENTED!”

As time went on the word became 
a new part of our lives
As things ‘UNPRECEDENTED’ 
snowballed before our eyes…

When floods and fires were at their worst
since records had begun
When women’s rights unravelled
as they’d only just been won

When rules were made about our wombs
and rich men went to space,
When violence and extreme right views
were gathering apace

When the climate threw a wobbly, 
that we could not ignore
When war broke out and holocaust 
came closer than before

When a coup was perpetrated - 
by an actual President -
They looked around for ages, 
but could find NO PRECEDENT!

When an artful haystack Twonk was caught 
red-handed in his lies
When his resignation triggered 
a new Lord of the Flies,

When trains did strike, and petrol price 
was now an arm and leg -
When drugs and lettuce were now scarce 
in our new-made Brexit bed

When cost of living soared up high, 
to a point of heat or eat
(A dilemma the poor were told 
they should budget well to beat)

You guessed it - there it is again - 
though you might start to resent it -
The whole thing is reported as
EVENTS UNPRECEDENTED!

With so much going wrong right now, 
from here to Timbuktu
It might seem like vocabulary 
is not the fight to choose…

But it’s time to take a stand somewhere, 
and look for real solutions
Escape the tyranny of language 
in a lingui-revolution!

So let us unite and rail against 
this icksome, irksome word -
So under-sensed and over-used 
it’s really quite absurd.

Like Inigo Montoya in revenge 
we must be heard and seen:
We do not think that word you use 
means what you think it means…

Leaders! MPs! Journalists! 
And warriors of keyboard!
It’s time to drop the epithet
of which we’re bored and re-bored -

The bloody thing is meaningless
and driving us demented
Give it a rest we’re not impressed
Don’t say ___________ !

Stop hiding safe behind it, 
like it’s some sort of defence
We demand that you begin to set
a brand new PRECEDENCE -

One where you take real action, 
and responsibility -
And meet our global challenges 
with some basic empathy.

The world is changing fast, it’s true - 
at a speed that’s unrelenting -
But we can’t respond in ways that work 
if we’re still UNPRECEDENTING.

					


	





	

								
Summer Term Newsletter
										

			23
			Saturday
			Jul 2022
		

	
	

		

			Posted  by  in Humour, School		

		

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Dear Parents/Carers/Other





Welcome back for our final half term of 2021/2022! It’s been a rollercoaster of a year, the first full in-person year for many of our pupils for some time, and we couldn’t be prouder of what they’ve achieved. We’re looking forward to keeping up that momentum over the next six weeks!





– Sunflower Trust Day





Our Charity Teams have chosen the Sunflower Trust Guinea Pig Retirement Home as their local charity this year, and this is the first time we’re telling you that TOMORROW the children will be taking part in a Guinea Pig parade. They can wear yellow or dress up as a guinea pig. £1 to the class teacher. Please note that Year 2 will be going on their wilderness walk and will also need their school jumper, unless they’re in Mr Peterson’s class, in which case they need purple hats.





– Climate Kids





The brilliant team at Climate Kids will be coming in to do a creative dance workshop with us on Thursday 16 June! Children should wear green and bring their own ballet slippers. £6 to be paid on our intermittently working payment app, the password for which you can’t remember and we certainly won’t be able to tell you.





– Indigenous People of Alaska Day





Brrrrrrr! July 21 is Indiginious People of Alaska Day, and Y4 can come to school in furs, ski-suits, or polar bear costumes! £1 to the class teacher. Which you don’t have, as in a post-Covid world you no longer have easy access to physical cash.





– Seeing Red on non-Recycling





Monday 20 June is Seeing Red on non-Recycling Day, but only for Y1 and Y5. To raise awareness about this important issue children can wear red diagonal stripes, pointing to the left. They will also need 10 plastic milk bottles, 9 aluminium cans and 32 loo rolls for a fun junk-modelling activity in the afternoon! £1 to the class teacher.





– Acts of Kindness Day





We’re having a special Acts of Kindness day on Wednesday 6 July to celebrate one of our core school values! We’re lucky to have such wonderful kindness ambassadors here at XXXXX school, and we’re looking forward to a day of Acts of Kindness – including our Kind Cake sale! Please bake from scratch and leave your kindness buns at the front office before 9 o’clock. Your child will need £1 to buy a bun for someone. Any leftovers will be sold in the main playground after school for £2.





Children can come to school wearing blue for kindness, but not the blue of their actual school uniform, obvs. £1 to the class teacher.





– Bucaneer Bonanza!





Ah Hoy There, Foundation-ers! Tuesday 21 June is our Buccaneer Bonanza. Children can come in fancy dress for the day, and we’ll be having pirate games on the field. Don’t forget suncream, hats (or headscarves!) sunglasses (or eyepatches!) £1 to the class teacher.





– Les Mis-I-need-the-toilet





Tickets for the Year 6 play will be going on sale next week, £5 per ticket, which will be allocated on a first come first serve basis. Please remember your child will need a black school blazer with the ‘Les-Mis’ school logo painstakingly hand sewn on the right hand side, available from the office for £3.





We will be having three performances, July 13 at 14.00, July 14 at 14.30, and July 15 at 18.00, when your child will need picking up at 15.30 and returning at 16.30 after tea for dress rehearsal. This will be a particularly logistical nightmare for those of you foolish enough to have jobs and/or multiple children. Lols.





– Sports Day!





We’re delighted to announced that Sports Day is back, and parents are invited! For Y1 and Y3 it will take place on June 22, and parents can watch between 11.00-14.00. Please bring a picnic rug and picnic for your participating child/ren. Don’t forget wet weather gear because you never know! Sports Day for Y2 and Y6 will be on June 23, Y2 parents can spectate between 9.00-11.00, Y6 parents 13.00-15.00. Foundation and Y5 Sports Day will be on June 24, 10.00 to 12.00. Y3 Sports Day will be on July 18 13.00-15.11. Except for Ms Singh’s class, who will join the Y3 day at 12.15.





The main entrance will be open for parents just before the start time, for 30 seconds only.





We apologise that following the unfortunate events at our last Sports Day we will no longer be doing a parents race.





– Wear the Rainbow Day!





We felt like some of the other colours were missing their own dress-up days, and that there might be a week when your child is at risk of wearing its actual uniform you actually paid for FOR FIVE DAYS IN A ROW. Plus we wanted to create a real challenge for parents of boys. £7 to the class teacher (one for each colour). Date tbc the night before.





– Summer Fayre





Our Summer Fayre is back on Saturday 16 July and it’s going to bigger and better than ever! The Parents Association are looking for volunteers who can give just 300 hours and a tiny slice of their soul towards preparing and manning a stall.





Very Strongly Suggested entry donation fee will be £3 per adult and £1 per child. If your child wishes to take part in the prize draw please bring in £4 in a sealed envelope with their name and class on it by yesterday.





We’re also looking for tombola prizes! So if you’ve got a spare tin of peaches or a small fiesta in good condition, contact Mrs Robinson at the school office.





Let’s make the 2021/2022 school year go out with a bang!





Best wishes,





Mrs T Cher





Head





XXXX Primary School

					


	





	

								
The family songbook
										

			23
			Saturday
			Jul 2022
		

	
	

		

			Posted  by  in Humour, Parenting		

		

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I find myself spending a lot of time right now focussing on small joys, because the big stuff is SO RELENTLESSLY AWFUL.





I’m trying to keep looking at the big stuff properly, because I don’t want to ignore it or be lulled into going numb to it – which I know is all too easy to do. But to combat its effects I find myself searching out pockets of happy and normality, and stock-piling them while I can.





A bit like loo roll.





I am planning stuff, and doing stuff that makes me happy.





And one of the things that is both a catalyst and symptom of happiness for me is singing.





I think in general there has been much less bursting into spontaneous song than I was hoping for in my life.





But luckily, it turned out singing was a weird sort of side-effect of having babies – one of the many I never saw coming.





Small people are in fact a GREAT excuse to catapult yourself into your own personal musical!





I don’t think I realised quite how much I loved to sing it until I was belting out Tony Chestnut, Old MacDonald and The Wheels on the Bus at various baby groups.





What’s more, the Smalls LOVED my voice, especially at bedtime.





This was a new experience for me!





Because my singing is, objectively, absolutely terrible.





I have spent much of my life being begged by people I live with to please, for the love of all that is Holy, STOP. YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN. I CAN STILL HEAR YOU.





My singing is terrible for several reasons.





These include (but are not limited to) not being able to hold a tune, not caring about this, not having any idea about either notes or keys, a startling inability to harmonise with others, fatal susceptibility to an earworm, and chronic lyric amnesia.





The only song words I can remember are the greatest hits from my parents’ favourite band Dr Hook, Alanis Morrisette’s Jagged Little Pill album – or the ones I make up myself as part of Mumonthenetheredge: The Musical, now in its tenth tuneless year.





There are MANY of these.





They are all terrible, too.





As an example, everybody in the house (apart from me) has their own theme tune, sometimes several.





We sing a song called ‘Bath Kitty’ at bathtime, because Catonthenetheredge always turns up hoping to be dripped on, as used water filtered off human being is her favourite drink/washing aid. (We have no idea why this is or how it came about, but find it equal parts endearing and gross).





We also sing a song called ‘Kitty, Kitty, Pussy Cat’ at bedtime, to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and we’ve now managed to train her to come and get on the Small Small’s bed and have a cuddle while being serenaded every evening. It goes like this:





Kitty, kitty, pussy cat





How we wonder where you’re at





You’re so pretty, you’re so sweet





From your kitty nose to your little kitty feet





Kitty, kitty, pussy cat





We don’t have to wonder where you’re at.





The hamster, who basks in the name Mr Lewis Tulip (Chewy for short) also has two theme tunes.





Chewy Lewy





Even though you’re pooey





Chewy Lewy





Yeah we love you so!





And to the tune of Abba’s Money, Money Money…





Chewy Lewy Chewy





You’re so pooey





In a hamster’s wheel.





Everyone has their own version of Maybe Baby which goes like this:





Hello baby





Are you a baby?





Yes I’m a baby – I don’t mean maybe!





I’ve been a baby, for XX years





I’m a baby maybe baby maybe baby.





There are also personalised lyrics for the children to Michael Rows the Boat Ashore, Oh Sinner Man, Puff the Magic Dragon, and MORE! (All gleaned from my own, looking back, possibly musically-abusive childhood).





Sometimes I sing when I WANT to be in a good mood.





Or instead of shouting.





I do an awesome line of tooth brushing and getting dressed Opera, and my back and forth tenner and soprano of ‘Put Your Bloody Shoes On’ is, if I say so myself, truly something to behold. Or behear.





But as the Smalls grow, I find there is less and less singing. (And also that they’re starting to tell me to be quiet, too. Sniff).





And somehow I find it is a core part of the sadness of them growing up.





Even worse, I find I am now forgetting the lyrics to these songs, too, as time passes.





So many of our memories, these days, are captured in photographs, or maybe videos. Stylised, shareable, snapshots of our lives – which live mostly on our phones.





But what those don’t really capture is the DETAIL. The detail of ordinary life, routines, their repetition, the everyday family traditions that emerge at different family stages. The stories behind the images. The small stuff that’s not photo-worthy – but somehow bigger and more important, anyway.





The stuff that comes alive again in a smell, in a tune, more than in an image.





When I scroll back to baby photos now, I don’t feel connected to those moments in time – it’s like looking through someone else’s pictures. They are flat. And I can’t quite remember the me I was then, or the they THEY were then, what it was like to hold them when they were so tiny, what the imprint of their bodies on mine felt like – what we were doing or saying to each other. I can’t remember the small/big important bits I promised myself I would keep safe inside me, that would be burned on my soul forever. They’ve slipped away.





My amnesia, it seems, extends far beyond song lyrics. (And passwords).





With Big Small now 10 and Small Small now 7 – with the world going to hell on a handcart – finding ways to record and preserve memories seems somehow more urgent.





I feel like I need to do more to capture the detail, store it up properly so I can one day feel the feelings again – and be properly connected to the past from the future. Properly connected to past mes, and past thems.





For me, I think that has to mean writing more of it down. The small stuff. The silly stuff. A diary of thoughts, feelings and moments that are MORE than a picture. That bring it back more strongly to live over again, when I need to.





So as a start, our next family project is to create a Family Song Book. Something solid to refer to, that is in itself part of creating and triggering memory, and tradition, and HOME.





Something that will be a route to coming back and finding it and each other when we lose it and us – because we will – because as the cliche goes the days are slow but the years are fast.





Something to help us not just remember the small joys but remember to notice them in the first place.





Something to sing along to.





(Even if when at least one of us will still sound like a tortured weasel with laryngitis when doing so).





xxx

					


	





	

								
A trip to The Deep – review by the Small Small
										

			23
			Saturday
			Jul 2022
		

	
	

		

			Posted  by  in Humour		

		

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I wish there was a special Trip Advisor just for kids. The Small Small had cause to go on a group trip to The Deep recently. Here is her (transcribed) review.





I’m handing over to the Small Small this week for several reasons. 1. The world is so terrible I don’t know what to say about it. 2. When I tried to say something about it a couple of weeks ago, I got more angry responses than I’ve ever had before. 3. Covid has hit Casaonthenetheredge and I’m not feeling super write-y.





TRIP ADVISOR REVIEW OF THE DEEP





By Small Small, Age 6-and-a-lot





* There was only one yellow seahorse.





* I didn’t see any penguins.





* I had to sit next to Amanda on the coach and there was too much drama.





* People shouldn’t be sick on coaches, it’s gross.





* I got pushed in the aisle and I didn’t like it.





* I was hungry on the way but I had some cheese.





* The sharks weren’t big enough.





* Lisa was scared in the tunnel but I told her the worst that could happen was that the tanks would break and she’d get eaten.





* I liked the rays because they’re smiley. I don’t know what they’re happy about. Maybe they just got some cheese.





* I don’t know how swordfish blow their noses.





* It was too dark and I didn’t like it.





* I touched some ice.





* The sea worms did a dance for me.





* I saw a Dory and I think it waved at me.





* There was snot on the floor in the lunchroom and it made me feel sick.





* I saw an axolotl but it wasn’t like the minecraft ones.





* There was a crown thorn starfish. They’re poisonous. It went like this. [Lies spread eagled face down on the floor for 90 full seconds]





* There was too much standing up and I got too tired to look at things.





* The fish were boring but I liked seeing the animals.





* I would give it 5 out of 5 stars!









					


	





	

								
We need to talk about Encanto (no no no)
										

			08
			Tuesday
			Mar 2022
		

	
	

		

			Posted  by  in Humour, Motherhood, Parenting		

		

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If you have smallish children (especially of the female persuasion) and access to Disney Plus you have probably not made it through Christmas without watching Encanto at least once.





I have seen it 7 times (or at least snippets of it in between cooking, cleaning, entertaining and breaking up fights).





Moreover, I have listened to the soundtrack on repeat and cannot get ‘Surface Pressure’ out of my head.





It LOOKS amazing. It’s rich and bright with the detail we now expect of these big lavish animated productions. It SOUNDS even better. The music is by Lin-Manuel Miranda and is LUSH and rich and wonderful (I love Hamilton). But the story… falls flat. It’s a great premise that just fails to deliver.





For some reason, this is not only frustrating me, but CONSUMING me.





This is Disney, people. I don’t want to be left to draw my own conclusions – I want the answers spelled out for me like I’m five. (You know, like the target audience). I want closure. I want full circles. I want narrative arcs, dammit.





Clearly, I am obsessing about it far too much because THAT’S WHAT I DO. (And it’s a great distraction from life! Try it!)





Anyway if you don’t want spoilers, or you don’t want to talk about Enanto (No no no), look away now. This is not for you.





If you do, YAY – strap in.





Here’s the thing.





There are just SO MANY unanswered questions, incomplete storylines, half-finished thoughts and frankly half-arsed messages that are marring what could and SHOULD have been a GREAT film.





1. The start





Right from the off it’s LAZY. The village kids ask heroine Mirabel about her magical family.





THE VILLAGE IS LITERALLY SET UP AROUND THEIR MAGIC HOUSE. How do these kids not know who these town saviours and protectors are??? Or who the oddity who DIDN’T GET A GIFT is? The postman is clearly blabbing about it left right and centre, ffs.





I completely get that these kids love to hear their village legend told over and over. All the writers needed to do was have one small kid say “Hey, my cousin is visiting us. Tell us again about the Madrigals!” Or “My baby sister doesn’t know about the Madrigals.” Then someone can legitimately not know Mirabel has no powers. See? Fixed it. Now the first song actually makes sense.





2. Plot holes





There are so many, but one of them is HOW IS BRUNO LIVING IN THE MAGIC WALLS AND NO ONE NOTICES? Including Delores, who is supposed to hear everything. I mean they gloss over this every now and again with her ‘hearing the rats in the wall’/‘it’s like I hear him now’ and then at the end, ‘oh I always knew he was there’. But it’s pathetic. And again it didn’t need to be… Delores could have been SO MUCH MORE than a love-lorn bit-part. And it wouldn’t even have needed much airtime!





One of the themes Encanto is SUPPOSED to be exploring is the weight of expectations, and the pressure of fitting a mould you’ve been assigned – the pressure of being allowed ot be only one thing, one dimension. We see it with Luisa (SERIOUSLY – go listen to her song it’s the best bit of the film and will make you want a donkey) and we see it with Isabela wanting to break out of her perfect princess role – and how being her full authentic self STRENGTHENS the magic. (I’d have liked to see how freedom would have strengthened Luisa’s magic, too. There could have been some great stuff in here about the strength to be found in vulnerability – I wish they’d leaned into it). And ALL of this could have been extended to the other characters, and would have reinforced a really, really important message for young girls.





Delores’s story could have been saved by making her a bit mad. She doesn’t sleep well because of the voices in her head, all of the time. And she’s had to learn to keep SO MANY SECRETS that she’s inevitably overheard over the years. Maybe the only time she finds peace in her head is with the love interest Mariano because he’s so delightfully dense and SILENT.





She’s so used to keeping the secrets she hears she doesn’t tell anyone about Bruno… But she can’t keep any more secrets in because she’s full to the brim BECAUSE THE MAGIC IS BREAKING – and THAT’S when she blabs at the dinner table.





Again. Fixed it.





3. Unexplained mystery





I get that they are granted a miracle because the Abeulo sacrificed himself for his family. But but but but but – nothing of this is FINISHED, either. There are so many loose strings of plot and unanswered questions! Who are the bad men? Why are they burning the village? Where have they gone now? Is the village safe now? Or is it secret/hidden by the magic?





Look, faceless, nameless and motive-less Baddies are a frankly WEAK plot device and Disney should be better than that. (It’s almost as bad as killing off parents as a quick excuse for child-only adventure. Beeyastards).





Also. Why Abuelo? Did no one else fight back? Why at THIS river? What IS the magic? Why does it become both a candle and a cheeky living house? Is it a watersprite or river mermaid, touched by the sacrifice, curious, living in/as the house to be close to the family it fell in love with 50 years ago? Is it breaking because the family is breaking? I MUST KNOW!





Also:





WHAT IS ABUELA’S POWER???





OF WHAT USE TO THE VILLAGE IS THE FACE-SWAPPING POWER????





HOW DOES THE MAGICAL HOUSE BUILD MAGICAL TARDIS ROOMS???





IF IT BUILT THEM WHY CAN’T IT GO INTO BRUNO’S????





WHY DO THE PARENTS NEVER OBJECT TO MIRABEL BEING BANISHED TO THE NURSERY????





IS BRUNO GAY????





SO MUCH ELSE!!!!!!!!!!!





Just a few simple connections and answers would help this feel like a whole, rounded and ultimately satisfying story rather than an ill-thought-through quickie for the cold hard cash. Gah.





4. Unfinished stories





SO MANY.





We never do really get to the bottom of why everyone hates Bruno so much they don’t talk about him (No no no).





At the end he tells his sister he just wanted her to be herself and ‘Let it Go’ (see what they did there?) on her wedding day. They could have made more of this – because Bruno also knows setting the magic free instead of controlling it and snuffing out the light is how to amplify it. (Again, as Elsa finds out when she unfreezes Arandelle).





I’m also annoyed none of his other transgressions brought up in ‘We don’t talk about Bruno’ (No no no) are addressed. I wanted to see Bruno’s side of ALL of them – from the bald man to the dead fish. And I wanted in both songs to hear about the good prophecies too… the people he helped but who were still scared of his gift. IF YOU START SOMETHING PLEASE FINISH IT. I need balance, Disney. I can’t deal with this.





5. No redemption arc





As quickly as the whole estranged brother thing was brushed under the carpet, Abuela is forgiven. That women has made the lives of her children and grandchildren – particularly Mirabel – vastly unpleasant. She’s excluded, chided, humiliated and blamed Mirabel since she was tiny. That’s… cruel.





It was also a genuinely important opportunity to explore intergenerational trauma – especially for the latino community. Gliding over it without touching the sides isn’t just unfortunate but even slightly… unethical.





The bit that genuinely upset me (from an admittedly very personal perspective) was the gaslighting – Abuela pretending Mirabel is mad when she KNOWS the magic is in trouble. Her back story is not an excuse for being a beeeyatch her entire life, and a quick river-hug and grudging admission she may have held on the reins a wee bit too tight DOES NOT CUT IT WITH ME. (Or my kids. They still hate her).





The thing is, that kids know – and they SHOULD know – that sorry isn’t always enough. That relationships are complicated. That trust and forgiveness both have to be earnt.





Basically Abuela needed to do more for her redemption arc to feel a bit more authentic and a bit less rushed.





6. No follow through on the core message





Watching trailers for Encanto, I thought this was going to be the embodiment of a message that has been developing through Disney films for some time – that you don’t have to be special to be special – just the way you are.





Sure, Mirabel’s parents say this. But it is not ever PROVED. There is no finale to her journey.





This message in Disney history is of course most obvious in Frozen, where Anna is not The Chosen One, has no special powers, but is actually more relatable, likeable, charming and dynamic than Elsa. (I don’t know about other kids, but mine idolised Elsa when they were very little, and as they grew bigger both switched allegiances to Anna. Because she’s better).





This was the chance to really drive that message home – and they didn’t. We still don’t really know WHY Mirabel didn’t get her gift. But THIS should have been the why. This is the completion of the story I really wanted.





Mirabel is not consumed by a talent or a purpose – so she’s free to be herself. It means while the others become only or mostly their gift, she becomes herself. She sees things the others don’t (hence the glasses). She sees the magic in people, the small stuff, the beauty in the everyday, the ordinary. In making things by hand – in the process. She’s the one the village children gravitate to. She’s the one smallest Madrigal Antonio wants to hold his hand during his gift ceremony. She’s the one who has the most affinity with Cassita, the living house. She’s the one the magic asks for help. She’s the one that SEES what the magic needs to thrive – and sees what’s going wrong. She’s the one the villagers want to help at the end. She’s the one that leads the rebuild, because she’s the ONLY one not lost without magic powers.





When everyone else’s gifts fade, Mirabel’s shine. Because she doesn’t need external ‘magic’. She’s got her own, internal kind. That’s why the house comes back to life when SHE puts in the door handle. She’s the one that’s kept the family, the magic, together. It makes sense she didn’t get a gift because the magic needed her to take care of it when it couldn’t take care of itself. It recognised that she was so special she didn’t need embellishment.





Maybe Abuela doesn’t have a gift either. Maybe her door shines because she is the Keeper of the Magic – and that’s her role in the family, gone slightly askew with age and fear. And Mirabel has been chosen to be the Keeper after her, and she’s been shown that letting go of fear and setting the magic free is actually what keeps the flame burning.





It’s what sparked it in the first place.





FIXED.





IT.





I think the reason I’ve found Encanto’s many gaps so frustrating is that THIS was the feel good film I really needed at the close of 2021 – this was the MESSAGE I really needed.





I needed someone to tell me I don’t have to be the best. All I have to do in 2022 is just be the best me. I am not the sum of my talents, I am not the hats I wear or the roles I play – I am more than all of them. All I really have to is TRY my best. Get up and do it over and over again in a row. See the little things. Find extraordinary in the ordinary. Fail a bit. Succeed a bit. Escape expectations… most particularly my own.





Maybe I’m so angry with Abeula because I’m so often my own Abeula… maybe I hold on too tight and I spoil things – because ultimately – I’m scared, too.





And maybe, just maybe, I need to get a life and stop taking animations quite so seriously.





Happy New Year!





xxxx

					


	





	

								
How to home school in Lockdown 3
										

			11
			Monday
			Jan 2021
		

	
	

		

			Posted  by  in Humour, mental health, Motherhood, Parenting, School		

		

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I’ve seen a lot of people on my news feed expressing frustration about home schooling. 





It’s really just something we have to get on with and a matter of just getting yourself organised. I’ve put together some simple steps to help you plan your day. 





How to Homeschool in Lockdown 3





1. Set the alarm for 6am so you can do some work before the kids get up. 





2. Tell the kids to get themselves up and dressed, and head downstairs for simple, healthy breakfast you’ve prepared the night before and some educational screen time. 





3. Ask your older child to help any younger siblings with teeth/hair/pants. 





4. Ignore the screams from the bathroom that indicate power crazed, overzealous brushing. 





5. Ignore the screams from downstairs that indicate IT’S NOT FAIR, IT’S MY TURN NOW, I’M TELLING MUM and I’VE DROPPED THE NUTELLA.





6. At 8.30 head down to set up home school for the day.





7. Try not to baulk at the fact all the furniture is now strewn across the room for The Floor is Lava to accompany the telly.





8. Save the cat from a lava-prison constructed of cushions.





9. Clean up the nutella now on every surface and every piece of soft furnishing. Including the curtains. And the cat. 





10. Re-dress and re-brush all children so they don’t look like demented ballet dancers and cause the school to call social services. 





11. At 9am log the first child on to a video conferencing registration session consisting of far too many children and the pure essence of chaos. 





12. Simultaneously attend a work meeting, while also starting the other child off on the day’s learning, using all 3 of the devices you apparently have at home!





13. Try to figure out why the microphone that was working two minutes ago is no longer working. 





14. Ask child what it pressed. 





15. It doesn’t know. 





16. Tell it to use sign language. 





17. Go back to the other child. 





18. Re-login the registration child who has inexplicably logged off and can’t get back in.





19. Get another Mum on the What’s App to message the teacher to let the child back in. 





20. Update your team on the priorities for the day.





21. Miss what the teacher has asked the child to do that day. 





22. Ask the child, which doesn’t know. Even though the meeting only finished two seconds ago.





23. Figure out where the day’s learning is for BOTH children by consulting What’s App, visiting BOTH woefully inadequate school websites and searching for information buried under 300 random levels. This will take at least an hour. 





24. At 9.30 log the next child onto a registration session, which has to be supervised.





25. Repeat steps 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19 and 21. 





26. Print out twelvety-hundred worksheets for the day, across eighteenty different websites and links. None of these will print out properly. 





27. Break up a fight over who gets which device first. 





28. Re-fill the printer ink. Which you don’t have. Nor the instructions on how to refill it. It’s now beeping at you and flashing red.





29. Ignore this until tomorrow, knowing you will hate yourself even more in the morning. 





30. Realise you’ve had 3 missed calls from your boss because Child 2 is on your phone. 





31. Set up Child 1 with it’s first task, which involves downloading a Powerpoint, watching a BBC Bite size video, and a youtube video, none of which it can navigate to or operate independently.





32. Set Child 2 up with it’s first task, which needs them to be on the same device at the same time, and involves a reading app which the other one is logged into and you can’t remember the password for, a maths games app, and a really annoying Youtube woman doing phonics who talks to children like they’re chihuahuas. 





33. Explain to Child 1 that yes, Child 2 is watching the telly, but no, it is work so it IS actually fair. 





34. Write a work report for 10am deadline. 





35. Provide snacks to shut the children up. 





36. Cry for the first time of the day. 





37. Know it will not be the last. 





38. Help a child shouting it’s stuck.





39. Help a child shouting it’s boring. 





40. Help a child shouting it can’t do it.





41. Help a child shouting MUMMY just for the sheer bloody hell of it. 





42. Good news! 25 new emails from just one of the schools, including with details of a new learning website/app/sharing platform. 





43. Follow the instructions to register. 





44. Keep following the instructions. Over and over again. 





45. Fail to register. 





46. Try to download another of the random phonics/timetable/colouring/maths websites/apps/sharing platforms. 





47. Realise your phone is full because the children have been recording long videos of themselves doing The Floor is Lava, and nothing works, not even What’s App, cutting you off from other desperate parents. 





48. Weep for the second time.





49. Take a work call, while pretending you’ve not just been crying. 





50. Break up a fight.





51. Put Child 1 in front of a maths sheet. 





52. Ten seconds later help Child 1, who is stuck. Already. 





53. Try and remember everything you ever knew about long multiplication.





54. No, that’s not how they teach it at school, are you stupid? 





55. Listen to Child 1 scream about not being able to do it, having not even tried. 





56. Attend an external client meeting while doing this. 





57. Set Child 2 up with art supplies to draw a picture and write a sentence about the weather! 





58. I don’t know what weather, you have to decide. 





59. You can draw what you like, darling. 





60. How about snow? You can write a sentence about what you did in the snow and draw a picture of you on a sledge. 





61. You’re right, that’s a stupid idea. 





62. So is that. 





63. JUST DRAW SOMETHING AND WRITE ANYTHING I DON’T CARE WHAT ANY MORE. 





64. NO YOU CAN’T WATCH THE FLOOR IS LAVA.





65. IF YOU DON’T KNOW YOUR 9 TIMES TABLE WRITE IT DOWN DON’T JUST GUESS.





66. THEN DO THE COMPREHENSION. 





67. YOU CAN DO IT. THE ANSWERS ARE LITERALLY WRITTEN DOWN IN FRONT OF YOU.





68. I’M NOT SHOUTING.





69. Realise you are shouting. 





70. Realise it’s not even 11am. 





71. Cry. 





72. Pull yourself together. 





73. Email the school about losing the latest password. 





74. They can’t help.





75. Make lunch. 





76. Clear up after lunch.





77. Prepare and present a lunch and learn presentation for 30 people! 





78. Set Child 1 up on it’s next task so you can read peacefully with Child 2. 





79. Lol! Don’t be silly.





80. Scream JUST WAIT and CAN’T YOU GO ON TO THE NEXT QUESTION and I’LL BE UP IN A MINUTE while listening to the torturously slow adventures of Biff, Chip and the other one.





81. Put Child 2 on a maths game.





82. Run between children like a slightly sweaty ping pong ball. 





83. Ignore your phone ringing.





84. Mark a maths sheet. 





85. Put Child 2 on kids Youtube. Tell it to be quiet. 





86. Child 1 has heard anyway.





87. She’s younger than you, so she has less work. 





88. Yes, well, life isn’t fair sometimes. TELL ME ABOUT IT. 





89. Placate with snacks. 





90. Child 1 tells you your work computer, which it has borrowed, isn’t working. 





91. It has somehow managed to log in as a completely different and non-existent person. 





92. Re-start computer. 





93. Lose some important documents in the process. 





94. Cry. 





95. Attend to screaming Child 2 who has been scratched by the cat, who for some reason doesn’t wish to play schools. 





96. Sympathise GREATLY with this point of view. 





97. Shove it out the catflap. 





98. Wish you could do this with children. 





99. Comfort child.





100. Apply a plaster it doesn’t need.





101. Check your work email to discover you’re now up to 200 unread emails. 





102. Miss another deadline.





103. Cry again.





104. 1pm – time to log Child 1 in for it’s next registration session!





105. Find out it has actually done none of the work it was set this morning and you’ve missed the upload deadline on the app you can’t download. 





106. Give up on this child and do some number line subtraction with Child 2. 





107. Realise it is functionally innumerate and despair of either of them ever learning anything or leaving home. 





108. Update some complicated spreadsheets that require intense concentration. 





182. Fear innumeracy may be catching.





830. Repeat steps 38 to 41.





990. Miss another online chaos session and send grovelling email to school so they don’t report you.





Q. Chair a meeting. 





249. Put kids in front of Joe Wickes in the hopes of 15 minutes to yourself to actually get something done. 





150. Listen to kids whine that Joe Wickes has a whiny voice and they’re tired/bored. 





151. Break up a Joe Wickes star jump injury-based fight. 





152. Provide more snacks. 





153. Put on an educational Bitesize video and hide upstairs. 





12ish. Pretend you don’t hear it turn into the Floor is Lava. 





13.5. Oh, don’t forget to get them out in the fresh air!





*7. And don’t forget to squeeze in some enriching family activities like educational board games, baking, or maybe just a mindfulness session together. 





450. Only do what you can, but also do it by these deadlines or your child’s future will suffer.





451. Next, make a delicious nutritious tea!





452. Try and get children to help you clear up the bombsite of printouts, cushions, pencils and snack wrappers. 





453. Give up. 





454. Put kids to bed. 





455. Promise everyone tomorrow will be better. 





456. Sit around and feel overwhelmed. 





457. Do all the work you’ve missed. 





458. Probably have another little cry. 





459. 11-12pm – continue to avoid going to bed yourself because the idea of doing it all again tomorrow is totally forking terrifying. 





FOLLOW ME FOR MORE TOP PARENTING TIPS!!!!!!!!!!

					


	





	

								
Appliance Paranoia
										

			28
			Saturday
			Nov 2020
		

	
	

		

			Posted  by  in Humour, mental health		

		

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There are certain Signs I can look out for that tell me that I am Not Okay. 





One of them is hypochondria. 





So far this week I’ve had a suspected DVT (my leg hurt a bit), a brain tumour (headache) and that thing where you can’t ever go to sleep and your body shuts down entirely through exhaustion and madness and you eventually die horribly, that I once saw on an episode of Poirot, (although it may have been worrying about this possibility that was stopping me from sleeping in the first place).





Clearly, the only person suspecting these things is me. And I do KNOW it’s one of my Signs… 





But. 





It still feels real late at night, when my Anxiety is most active. 





Another of my Signs is Appliance Paranoia. 





This is when I decide various household objects – mostly electrical – are trying to kill me. 





So here’s a list of some of them and how my Anxiety currently rates them on a random Scale of Danger I don’t pretend to understand.





  1. Phone charger by my bed





ANXIETY VERDIT: Completely harmless. 





It stays plugged in 24/7, often ends up covered in pyjamas and old bed socks, and is in use nightly less than a foot away from my head while I’m comatose.





  1. Every other phone charger in the house





ANXIETY VERDICT: Deadly.





They must be physically unplugged and isolated on a hard surface 2 feet away from all flammable materials or they will MURDER EVERYONE. 





  1. Laptop charger





ANXIETY VERDICT: Okay in the day, and whenever I leave the house. Highly dangerous after 10pm. 





Although this one can just be turned off on the wall without being unplugged…





  1. Monitor





ANXIETY VERDICT: Completely benign. No action needed. 





  1. Toaster





ANXIETY VERDICT: HOMICIDAL.





Must be unplugged after use because of EXTREMELY HIGH RISK OF SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION. 





(Although to be fair to me, this one is based in some amount of reality as the heating element is gone, and you can’t put in a second round of toast immediately after the first without it smoking and setting the fire alarm off. 





I should probably buy a new one, but strangely I would rather just worry about this one, because…. Okay I don’t know why).  





  1. Dishwasher





ANXIETY VERDICT: Untrustworthy.





Must never be left on overnight. You have to wait up for it to finish and cool down, or not put it on until morning. 





Although apparently it’s fine to put it on and leave the house to burn down without you there to do anything about it…





Look, I don’t make the rules. I just have to follow them. 





  1. Fridge/Freezer





ANXIETY VERDICT: Benign.





Apart from the fact there’s an intermittent sour milk smell that I keep trying to clean away but keeps coming back and I should really get to the bottom of, but I’m choosing to ignore by dint of not breathing when I open the door. 





(This is exactly the sort of escalating situation Future Me is going to want to kick Past Me’s ass over, but as Present Me adjudicator I’m going with a LaLaLaLa can’t hear [or smell] approach).





  1. Oven





ANXIETY VERDICT: Shady as F. Needs supervision.





Must be checked carefully at night time to make sure it’s off. 





But you didn’t check properly, so get up again after you’ve finally got into bed and tried to sleep for at least ten minutes, and then go back downstairs to check it. 





Repeat as required. 





  1. Induction Hob 





ANXIETY VERDICT: Friendly but stupid.





Randomly beeps a warning and stops working whenever it feels it’s been misused, eg by having the temerity to clean it, adding or removing a pan, or getting the slightest moisture on it. Can therefore probably can be relied upon to short out before attempting to kill anyone. 50 bonus points/smiley face.





Although, come to think of it, you might as well check it when you check on the oven… 





  1. Toothbrush charger





ANXIETY VERDICT: No.





Makes a very loud buzzing noise when it’s on which is clearly a sign of IMMINENT AND HORRIBLE DEATH. 





Can be used, but only during the day and must be unplugged if you leave the house.





  1. Fire alarm





ANXIETY VERDICT: THESE ARE TRICKING YOU INTO A FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY.





They therefore need checking, preferably late at night when you’re very tired and everyone else is asleep, because YOU NEVER KNOW. 





  1. Boiler





ANXIETY VERDICT: Evil, but too mysterious to interfere with. Requires Ongoing Worry. 





All boilers are inherently malevolent and have nefarious intentions: FACT. You must therefore vacillate between completely forgetting you have one and being mortally afraid it will slowly poison you all in your beds. 





(I learned boilers were evil at a young age from the boiler that used to [intermittently] head my childhood home. I don’t know what was wrong with it, but it involved by parents spending a lot of time ‘relighting the pilot’ and shouting at each other). 





I’m told (by my Anxiety) that the best way to keep fears of carbon monoxide fresh is to read internet horror stories about them obsessively. (I also like to do this in the summer, when boiler use recedes, with Secondary Drowning. [Fun Project! Look this up to add to your own list of Anxieties!]) 





You must also regularly grow to mistrust the alarms you buy to monitor CO, buy more, randomly insist on ventilation at inconvenient times, and lose all documentation about when your boiler is due a service – and then worry about that as well. 





  1. Christmas lights





ANXIETY VERDICT: Festive vipers. Extreme caution required.





We decorated for Christmas last weekend, because a bit of sparkle and twinkle is frankly what we ALL need right now. (Even if Past Me left the lights in a MAHOOSIVE knot. B Hitch). 





(I also find Christmas lights are another good indicator of how Okay I am. If it gets to the point where you can’t be arsed to put on the Christmas lights you know you are dead to joy and require an intervention. Seek help immediately.)





 However, my Anxiety says they also want to kill me. Even the LED ones… 





Must be switched off at the wall if not under direct observation. Also check to see if they’re getting hot every couple of hours. 





  1. Lamps





ANXIETY VERDICT: Mixed risk.





I don’t like my overhead lights, but instead of replacing the lightbulbs for something yellow and cosy I’ve chosen to invest in a series of lamps to create ‘mood lighting’ instead. It now takes me a good 2-4 minutes to actually illuminate my living room which is super-duper convenient, obvs. 





Most of these lamps are apparently fine, but my Anxiety has taken against one, which must be switched off and unplugged at the wall, involving yoga-esq bending over and grappling behind furniture, usually accidentally switching the wifi off as it’s where the router is plugged in, too. 





  1. Router/TV boxes/phone/Smart speaker/DVD player/Ancient Wii





ANXIETY VERDICT: Chill out dude, it’s all fine. 





Despite the fact these are all plugged in via a complex system of extension leads with curtains on top of them. 





I will repeat: I DON’T MAKE THE RULES HERE. 





  1. Washing machine/kettle/other





ANXIETY VERDICT: Don’t care. 





Please let me know if any household objects are out to get you, too. 





And if you’ve got your Christmas lights up. 





AND, more importantly, if you are otherwise #Okay or #NotOkay right now…





Please also share this, because it’s very lonely coping with shady ovens and nefarious boilers all by yourself, and if this gets to someone else with Appliance Paranoia or a similar condition, it may just help them. 





And maybe by laughing at it during the day we can rob it of some of its power at night time. 





Lots of love. 





XXXXXxxxxx

					


	





	

								
To tell or not to tell…
										

			12
			Thursday
			Nov 2020
		

	
	

		

			Posted  by  in Humour		

		

			≈ Leave a comment
		

	

						

	


			

					


		

			






To tell or not to tell, that is the question… 





And I’m asking it basically because I can’t face facing the fact the world is clearly going back to lockdown-hell-in-a-handcart very shortly. So I’m on a distraction arc. 





One of the things I learned in the LAST lockdown was that my kids sharing a room is not going to be ideal moving into the future. One of them may not survive beyond teenhood, and I’ve got no idea which one to back. It could go either way, frankly. Small Small has weight and determination on her side; Big Small has RAGE. 





And that basically means, longer term, I need somewhere else to work than the spare box room – and that I’m very seriously considering joining the multitudes and investing in a garden office. 





Garden offices are one of the big Covid WINNERS. Turns out nobody likes their family that much, and many would quite like to get away from them and move out, even if they can only wangle moving out to a Man/Woman cave at the bottom of the garden. 





In my mind this will be a stylish sanctuary where I will suddenly become super productive at work, possibly gaining industry fame and a huge salary involving 000s in the all right places, plus be visited by a creative muse, causing me to simultaneously knock out that book Boynotquiteonthenetheredge has been nagging me about, and probably getting a great publishing deal and winning The Booker Prize in 2021. Or maybe 2022. Let’s be realistic. 





There is, I admit, a nagging feeling somewhere at the back of my mind that even with a garden office I might, weirdly, still be a procrastinating chronic underachiever, and that the sanctuary will either be too cold or too sunny or both at once, become a breeding ground for mahoosive spiders round the back, and end up being furnished with crappy garden furniture, kids’ bikes, and the old paddling pool. 





I am quashing this. 





Because DISTRACTION ARC. 





Anyway, all of this led to a nice lady coming round to take a look at a dark corner of my garden and take a few measurements. 





And this is where I had my ‘to tell or not to tell’ moment. 





Because measuring involves bending over. 





And the nice lady was wearing a pair of well-loved black leggings. 





And, it turns out, a very nice, very visible pair of high-rise black lacy pants – that frankly put my enormous granny knickers to shame, and I wish I had the belly and post c-section nerves to wear myself. 





I also wish that people would tell me when I’m having exactly this sort of wardrobe malfunction. 





Mine are never sexy wardrobe malfunctions. They tend to involve buttoning something up wonky, wearing bright pink pants under something light and not noticing until I glance sideways and wonder who the fat trollop is in that shop window, or leaving a skirt tucked into my pants after going to the loo. 





I once wore a dress to work inside out for an entire day, and finally noticed at about 3pm after a wee. I went back to tell my team, only to find out that they KNEW, and hadn’t said anything because – and this is a direct quote – ‘they thought I already knew.’ WHY WOULD I BE WEARING MY DRESS ON INSIDE OUT ON PURPOSE?????? 





I’m not actually sure whether this reflects worse on them or me, come to think of it. 





Anyway, as a result of these various experiences I would rather KNOW than not know. But there’s no doubt that telling a stranger this sort of thing is a bit, well… awkward. 





Nice garden room lady and I had slightly bonded over the rudimentary, and probably completely inaccurate, application of trigonometry (it’s a triangular plot), but we’d still only known each other for a sum total of about ten minutes, while embarking on the first tentative footsteps towards exchanging a not insignificant amount of money. 





On the other hand, I was already intimately acquainted with her under garments.





And imaging her next visit to be to some pervy bloke who’s exactly the sort of idiot that fancies an office room makes them look important and productive. YES I KNOW. 





I was so distracted by the ‘to tell or not to tell’ dilemma I spent much of the last few minutes of our garden-room conversation answering quite at random. 





What if she gets offended? What if she gets embarrassed? What if it’s deliberate and that’s the look she’s going for? What if she tells me to mind my own business? What if I’m not supposed to be policing women’s bodies/telling people what to wear? What am I actually going to SAY? Is ‘I can see your pants and the outline of your fanny’ too blunt? Is it actually any of my bees wax? Is this what sisterhood looks like? Feminism? Do I need to add this to my endless list of worries, OR my endless list of guilt? WHICH ONE OF THEM IS CURRENTLY LONGER – QUICK LETS GO THROUGH EVERY AWKWARD THING YOU’VE EVER SAID AND REGRETTED, AND NOT SAID AND ALSO REGRETTED, YES RIGHT NOW!





So in the end I….….





Told her. 





On the way out. 





I think I mumbled something about her lycra having given up the ghost but I’ve blocked the details out, now. 





Boynotquiteonthenetheredge is horrified, and firmly of the opinion I’m never going to see a quote from these people, or hear from them again.





I think I might get a discount. But that could be the distraction arc talking, also known as self delusion. 





So to tell or not to tell? What would you do? When have you done it/not done it? And would you like it done back? 





#lalalaletsnottalkaboutcovid#sisterhood#totellornottotell#overthinking