(no subject)
I was walking home the other day through Hobbiton (no Gandalf in sight) and I passed someone's open front door. I peeped in, as I always do, and saw this extremely glamorous woman sashaying down the hallway. She looked like she was straight out of an Estee Lauder advert: beautiful, stylish, perfectly turned out and, get this, SHE WAS JUST INDOORS!
Anyway, I continued walking even though every bit of me just wanted to stand and stare. Once I’d got a safe distance away, I looked down at me. Let me just describe what I saw: I was wearing a pair of jeans (very old and still bearing the remains of Bubs’ lunch), a top that was creased and was probably Himself's a long time a go, my hair was in a ponytail where I'd put it at six that morning at which point I hadn't even had time to brush it, my trainers were dirty and were not really the best thing to be wearing on a summer's day and I was pushing a pram containing one very grumpy, teething and untidy little boy.
You might say she was so immaculate because she didn't have a child in tow, but somehow I got the impression that even if she did have a child, she would still be that perfect. And anyway, I can remember many an incident like this before I had my little Bubsy Boy and so I can't really say it's all down to him.
Well I could, but that would be lying and I really don't want to be lying in my journal tut tut.
Now, that might have been where I left it, but it wasn't.
I got home to find my next door neighbour who, incidentally, has three children (1, 3 and 6) outside pruning her hedge. Now tell me, who has time to prune their hedge with three children? But, more than that, her children were dressed immaculately! All clean and fresh like they'd just got out of a Johnson's bath and were happily playing with their dolls or cars. Okay, I exaggerate: I think Nina might have been squashing ants, but at least she was doing it discreetly.
I smiled sheepishly at my neighbour and tried to keep Bubs' pram turned away so she couldn't see my crumb/juice/chocolate covered little boy who was currently having a paddy because I wouldn't let him kick the 'flowas'.
She smiled back happily and, get this, stepped out from behind the bush wearing a very stylish white skirt. White, you got that bit didn’t you? She then proceeded to tell me how they had just made fairy cakes (just!)whilst I tried to hold steady a wildly shaking pram (Bubsy boy was still intent on the 'flowas') and tried to pretend that that was normal. She offered me some cakes and before I had even opened my mouth to answer she was holding out the prettiest china plate bearing three perfectly made cakes. I mumbled thank you and went inside placing the cakes on the kitchen table. Trying to keep to my resolve I had made just forty minutes early outside 'Estee Lauder models' house' I started cooking tea. Boiled fish, rice and vegetables. Hah, not many calories or rubbish in that!
However, the cakes were calling to me. They were saying such sweet, wonderful things like: ‘I taste soooo good’, ‘I will make you feel better’, ‘I’m sooo comforting’.
I was good, I ignored them……until they said something along the lines of: ‘just one won’t hurt’ or maybe it was the ‘you can start again tomorrow’.
Bah.
Anyway, I continued walking even though every bit of me just wanted to stand and stare. Once I’d got a safe distance away, I looked down at me. Let me just describe what I saw: I was wearing a pair of jeans (very old and still bearing the remains of Bubs’ lunch), a top that was creased and was probably Himself's a long time a go, my hair was in a ponytail where I'd put it at six that morning at which point I hadn't even had time to brush it, my trainers were dirty and were not really the best thing to be wearing on a summer's day and I was pushing a pram containing one very grumpy, teething and untidy little boy.
You might say she was so immaculate because she didn't have a child in tow, but somehow I got the impression that even if she did have a child, she would still be that perfect. And anyway, I can remember many an incident like this before I had my little Bubsy Boy and so I can't really say it's all down to him.
Well I could, but that would be lying and I really don't want to be lying in my journal tut tut.
Now, that might have been where I left it, but it wasn't.
I got home to find my next door neighbour who, incidentally, has three children (1, 3 and 6) outside pruning her hedge. Now tell me, who has time to prune their hedge with three children? But, more than that, her children were dressed immaculately! All clean and fresh like they'd just got out of a Johnson's bath and were happily playing with their dolls or cars. Okay, I exaggerate: I think Nina might have been squashing ants, but at least she was doing it discreetly.
I smiled sheepishly at my neighbour and tried to keep Bubs' pram turned away so she couldn't see my crumb/juice/chocolate covered little boy who was currently having a paddy because I wouldn't let him kick the 'flowas'.
She smiled back happily and, get this, stepped out from behind the bush wearing a very stylish white skirt. White, you got that bit didn’t you? She then proceeded to tell me how they had just made fairy cakes (just!)whilst I tried to hold steady a wildly shaking pram (Bubsy boy was still intent on the 'flowas') and tried to pretend that that was normal. She offered me some cakes and before I had even opened my mouth to answer she was holding out the prettiest china plate bearing three perfectly made cakes. I mumbled thank you and went inside placing the cakes on the kitchen table. Trying to keep to my resolve I had made just forty minutes early outside 'Estee Lauder models' house' I started cooking tea. Boiled fish, rice and vegetables. Hah, not many calories or rubbish in that!
However, the cakes were calling to me. They were saying such sweet, wonderful things like: ‘I taste soooo good’, ‘I will make you feel better’, ‘I’m sooo comforting’.
I was good, I ignored them……until they said something along the lines of: ‘just one won’t hurt’ or maybe it was the ‘you can start again tomorrow’.
Bah.