So I have it on good authority there are a few people of the
male persuasion tuning into the Wonderful Wagon. Thank you and you are all most welcome. I am very flattered and also feeling a bit
stressed under the extra pressure because most of, ok, all of my stuff is aimed
at a certain demographic; that being the mammies. Mister Husband doesn’t count because he
thinks everything I do is wonderful anyway. Well, he’d better! He’s probably reading this standing outside
the pub right now! While I am at home
with the kids (Insert smiley face here). Plus he is reading about his own kids so
it follows that he thinks everything they do is also wonderful. Except when they fight, shout, scream and
roar, wake up too early, wreck his place of work, demand hot chocolate and
pancakes of a morning out and don’t eat any of it, break our stuff, draw on the
walls and refuse to settle down for the night in under an hour. Except for all of that. You know
yourself. To anyone else tuning in, who
is not the owner of a small person, pull up a chair. I am extending the biggest welcome of all to
you because you have no reason at all to be here. I would like to take this opportunity and apologise
to those of you who, in the comfort of your own leaba of a Saturday morning,
are finding a Smart Phone thrust into your face by your wife and ordered to
“read that!” I know this has happened to
at least one of you out there and I hope you don’t take it too personally. I can only assume (without making an ass out
of you and me) that your other half was amused by my ramblings and certainly
not trying to ram my opinions down your throat.
Of course, there are loads of subliminal messages in my meanderings but
try to ignore those. (Insert another
smiley face here) I am going to go out on a limb now and risk blowing up
everything I have worked so hard to portray; that our life is hard, minding
kids would put years on you and we never ever get a minute to ourselves, going
to the bathroom is a spectator sport and kids are terrors for swiping the treat
to go with your coffee as soon as your back is turned. All of that is true, and I could give you
plenty more examples but I know Saturday morning lie on’s are precious so I
won’t hold you much longer. Yes, we
drink wine (see above for reasons why) and lots of coffee (because we can). But would you really begrudge us any of that
after we gave birth to your child? You
were there, right? Don’t get me wrong. I
am a huge fan of childbirth.
Seriously. Whenever someone I
know is close to giving birth, I am almost jealous. I envy them. It is an incredible event. But again you know that because you were
present at the birth of your own child/ren.
So I reckon you deserve a medal too because if it wasn’t for you, at the
risk of stating the very obvious, there would be no children. You’ll get us back someday. You really will. Believe it or not, we are looking forward to
getting you back too. It’ll be like the
first flush of love all over again. Only better. This time we’ll have age and experience on
our side. And hopefully a bit of extra
money to throw about. There will be no
more sitting in that fabulous huge pub window of a Sunday night and drawing
straws to see which of us will be ringing in sick in the morning with an
imaginary kidney infection. (Apologies Johnson Stevens. No, I wasn’t on the verge of needing
dialysis. At least not for the reasons I
led you to believe!) It won’t be a real
UTI either, due to old age; it will be a complete total and well deserved “fuck
it all” attitude. The kids at this
stage, will be in secondary/college and the mortgage is paid off. (Yes!
The mortgage is paid off!) We will have the house to ourselves and can
come and go as we please. Maybe even the
odd long weekend away. Imagine
that? So just hang on in there. Listen to the giving out for a little bit
longer. Help out for a little bit longer
still. You will reap many rewards. Oops.
That wasn’t so subliminal! But hey,
no-one’s arguing that we have it any harder than you. I reckon it’s much of a
muchness. We get to stay at home with
the kids all day. Every day. You get to go out to your place of work. Have a lunch break. Get paid.
Come home and listen to us moaning.
Like I said; much of a muchness.
(Insert yet another smiley face here!)
Don’t tell anyone I said this but I reckon you menfolk probably have it
a touch harder than us wimmin. So someone
has to take pity on us. And someone
did! There is a lovely lady out there
whose name escapes me, actually I haven’t got a clue what her name is, but she
has taken our plight on board and put pen to paper to give us something to read
other than how to get your child to sleep at night, what to cook in order to
tempt a fussy toddler and with more words and a lot less pictures than the
glossies. It’s called “mummy porn” by
all accounts and it looks like you’re benefitting from it again. Well,
it’s a hard knock life for us stay at home mothers you know. It’s not all about coffee mornings, drinking
wine and 50 Shades of Grey! Now get up
man, for god sake and feed your kids!
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