I'm feeling nit picky so I'm going to just say what I've been thinking (for ages)...
When women are writing about their families why do they have to say that they are married to the most fantastic Man that ever walked the earth, and have the most adorable children anyone ever gave birth to?
If they have to make me jealous for them to feel good, tough, not sure I want to know...
If they are married to a right #*#~~*%"^&%%## are they likely to admit their judgement was a little 'off' on their wedding day?
If they wish they'd run screaming years ago, are they likely to admit it in their blog? (and I'm not belittling those who wish they could, believe me, its no joke)
And as regards their children, I should hope that at least once a week most mothers think their children are the best thing since sliced bread! (when they are asleep)
Can't we just take all that as read and move on to more interesting stuff- like how many scarves they have? or their favourite cheese? or whether they hoover under the sofa except when their mother is visiting?
Because, lets be honest, all husbands have faults and there's no such thing as the perfect man- I mean, even Superman wears his clothes inside out....and children? even when you want to tie 'em to the Park railings and run, you'd be bawling your eyes out the minute anything happened to them.
So can we just leave off about the husbands and children, and write about the important stuff here?
Talking of which, after a brief trip home at the weekend to do laundry (NINE LOADS begorrah!), cook, play the organ, visit the parents and update them on life the universe and everything, etc...I'm back in Dublin arguing with Eldest and pointing her nose at the grindstone.
Middlest arrives this evening to work on the Set all of tomorrow.
And someone has spilled something sticky on this laptop and its truly revolting-eeugh...
Business as normal so!