27 February 2013

Fat Arse Pay Day

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You know how when you get a raise you immediately go out and spend the money, even though it’s not payday for another 3 weeks and you haven’t actually got the money yet?

Yeah, well I’m doing that right now.
But Rhonda, I hear you say, you don’t have a job.

To which I say I do have a job actually, it’s called being a mummy and shhhh so hubby can’t hear you - he still thinks I’m getting maternity leave even though our daughter is almost 3.

But no, you are right, I don’t have a real job. But I’m not spending money - I’m spending calories.

I’ve just got a new bike and I am now planning to cycle everywhere and get heaps fit and healthy and lose loads of weight and have a tushie as tight as a jam jar lid and a belly as flat as Keira Knightley’s boobs.   

And because in the very near future I will be burning up loads of calories, I am allowing myself to eat lots of cake now.

It’s kind of like I have the calories on credit and I will pay them back at the end of the month in one lump sum when I go on that really long and arduous ride fully laden with my daughter and her seat on the back of the bike, together will all our crap, erm I mean safety equipment like helmets and mud guards and lights and high visibility everything in bright fluoro pinks and our backpack full of essentials such as toys and nappies and wipes and changes of clothes and cake.

Only problem is that there has been a very cold spell lately so I haven’t been able to get out as much as I expected.

Actually I’ve only really been able to go out on my bike once.

To go to the nearest shop.

To buy cake ... 

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08 February 2013

What a Phoney

I bought my two year old a magazine yesterday - the one with stickers and counting and colouring she loves. And there was a free gift attached to the magazine - a plastic Ben and Holly mobile phone.

My little girl couldn’t wait to get it open. She cuddled the magazine all through the supermarket and in the car. As soon as we got home she ripped the phone off the magazine and hurled the magazine aside. She tore the plastic wrapping off the phone and held her new possession in her hand.
She breathlessly touched the screen excitedly.


Then she touched the buttons.


Then she touched everything all again.

Five times over.

She slid her finger over the screen once more, making sure none of her other fingers were touching the screen and thereby preventing the phone from reading her prodding.

She looked at me with mild annoyance. “Batty flat.”

“No honey” I explained. “There is no battery. It’s a pretend phone.”

She looked confused. “Plug in” she suggested.

I tried to break it to her gently. “It doesn’t plug in honey. It’s just pretend.”

I have never seen such a look of disgust in all my life.

She looked at the phone and then looked at me. I could read her thoughts:

“What a useless piece of crap. You can’t do anything with it. I can’t watch Peppa Pig on it. I can’t phone people. I can’t take photos of my own feet.

What’s the point of it? I’ve already got an HTC Wildfire which does more than this piece of rubbish, even without a plan. I thought I was getting an upgrade. Instead I got this useless piece of shite.

You suck Ben and Holly. You can take your dumbass phone and shove it up your magic kingdom.”

And so at two and a half my daughter has learnt one of life’s tough lessons: sometimes the anticipation of getting something is more exciting than the having. 
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