NaBloPoMo

Someone shoot me now, I’ve decided that I’m going to attempt NaBloPoMo on this blog right here. Either it will extend me and make me write more, or I’ll jump off a (small) bridge (into a fishpond) half way through. Oh and have I mentioned, I’m getting MARRIED in November?

I’m an idiot. We agree. Let’s move on.

***

The timer is our God. Let us all worship at the altar of small magnetic electronic devices that count down seconds and beep obligingly at the correct time. Most screaming can be cured by a declaration of ‘I’m setting the timer RIGHT NOW’ and ‘When it beeps you can and NOT BEFORE.’

Join me in my worship of the two dollar device. It will make your life easier too, with the beeping and the pressing of buttons.

***

‘I DON’T LIKE YOU!’

‘I DON’T LIKE YOU EITHER!’

The shouting starts and I suspect that the trigger was a tale told about a biscuit stolen before the appropriate beeping from our God was heard. They shout it at each other and suddenly, my son is laying flat on his back wailing that SHE HIT ME and SHE NOT LIKE ME.

Time outs were administered as my son sobbed his tale into my shoulder. The hit didn’t hurt as much as the chance that his big sister (his idol, his partner in crime, his mess making helper) didn’t like him.

It feels like the morning is lasting forever.

***

I declared myself to be happy that it was Not Winter anymore and the universe decided that it was going to teach me a lesson. Cursing at the clouds doesn’t seem to be helping.

This is why I’ve changed my worshipping habits and you can find me making offerings to The Timer. Drips of blood and pieces of chocolate, maybe I’ve gummed up the works, but bugger me if it doesn’t look happier.