I was sitting on the kitchen floor with Graeme within my vicinity and i needed to poep, as one does every now and then.

I looked around, the coast was clear, every one was out of ear shot besides the toddler, but its not like he cares about such things.

So I let my little one out and Graeme turns to look at me with a sparkle in his eye.

Graeme: “Mommy pooo – p”

Me: “Yes, shhhhhh”

Graeme: “Mommy pooo – p” Getting louder.

Me: “Yes, Quite now.”

Graeme: “Mommy pooo – p!!!!” Much louder.

Me: “Yes Graeme I poeped.”

Graeme just nods, smiles and goes back to whatever he was busy with in the first place.

Now really was that necessary??

*Poep is South African Slang for fart*


Fetch it!

Amy is our little Jack Russel. She is a pure bred hunter, will catch everything that moves. She has caught rats, snakes, mice and her favourite moths.

Last night she was in the laundry hovering around the washing machine, no matter how much I called she would not leave it. Then the other Jack Russel, Ice, joined her I knew this wasn’t a moth she was after.

I moved the veggie rack out of the way, still she was around the washing machine. So I pulled the washing machine out carefully, she ran behind and around it. Still could not see anything.

Then I called Bearn to come help me lift it to see if anything was under the machine. She went under sniffing like crazy but still nothing was found. Bearn left again after not finding anything of interest.

Looking around the machine I was thinking if I see a pair of eyes looking at me I will poop my pants. Yet I still look.

I, for some reason, decided to look in the machine. Then saw that you can see the inside of the machine just above the rim. There was a pair of eyes staring at me and a tail hanging over the edge of the drum.

I did poop my pants and screamed for Bearn! He came back and we tilted the machine and pushed it out with the broom handle.

Poor rat didn’t stand a chance. Ice and Amy each wanted a bit of it.

The funny and the sad.

On Saturday I had 2 birthday parties scheduled. Off I go to the first which was in the Northern Suburbs, so about a 30 minute drive from me.

Starting on the sad. Just as I am leaving town there is a little beggar boy at the robot. I had bought Graeme a packet of biscuits and left them in the chubby hole for when ever he needed silencing. I figured this child needed them a lot more than Graeme did, and its not like Graeme would even know they are gone. I waved the pack at him to come get them, as he got closer I could see all his ribs through the extra stretched neck hole of his t-shirt. He walked away eating the biscuits like he had not eaten in days and this was his first ‘meal’. This broke my heart, I literally had tears running down my face. Here I was driving to parties with presents in the boot when this kid was starving. I know I can’t save the world, just pulled on a nerve – I can do my little bit though. I did pop a mini mention to Graeme that he must be grateful for what he has. 

Driving on I got over my moment and headed to the first party and then on to the funny. Pull into the street and see all the balloons and little kids going in, don’t know any of them, but figure they must be from school. Note I have been to the house before. I see they have changed the front of the house, the garden. Oh I would also like to add that all the houses in this street look exactly the same. I go in and at the front door I am greated by an Afrikaans man who lets me in, I thought this a bit odd. Once inside I look around and the whole house has changed, as in even the furniture. I look over at a baby picture on the wall and its not Casandra. Then a Lady comes up to me, and Asks what my little boy’s name is. Then says we dont know any Graeme’s. I quickly said sorry and walked out the door.  And went 13 houses up. Sigh. 

Graeme at the correct party down the road. Can you guess the theme. 

Emergency trip

On Saturday Bearn bought himself some beers and packed them into the fridge. A little while later I went in to get some thing out of the fridge and one came flying out at me.

Broken glass every where and the house now smelt like a brewery, Bearn grabbed the child and I started cleaning. We got all the big pieces up. There were hundreds of little shards. I figured that they would all stick to a towel, so clever me mopped up the last of the beer and glass with the towel.

We had people coming over for said beer so I put the towel in a neat little ball in the corner, where it was forgotten for then.

Sunday I started on the washing and sort it into neat piles and in the towel goes into the washing machine.

A little while later Graeme came to me holding up his foot, and instantly I knew. Grabbed him and took him to Bearn to pin down and I pulled a teeny tiny piece of glass from under his foot.

To distract Graeme I lay on my stomach on the bed biting and tickling him, but I was at a funny angle so I pulled my knee down to straighten my leg and as I did so I felt sudden sharp pain in my knee.

I quickly sat up and saw a gapping hole on my knee. Ok it was about 3 cm all round.  I shouted for Bearn to help me because I had been cut by a piece of glass. <I just want to say his initial though was that that I had cut myself on Graeme’s tiny piece of glass and was kicking up a fuss.>

He looked at my knee and we decided I would need a stitch as it was deep and on the knee, being a bendy bit of the body and all. I stuck a ball of cotton wool and a plaster on.

Off I went to the hospital – where I was visiting some one any way-. By the time I saw a sister to assess if it needed  said stitch/es. By the time she looked at it, it had sealed itself up ever so nicely, sigh. She said it was a surface wound and I had to explain that it was rather deep 20 minutes earlier.

The sister cleaned my tiny scratch up and told me she would not charge me with a slight hint of a giggle and a look of shame she just wanted attention.

Why the Porché??

On Friday when driving home after seeing the latest Sparkly Vampire movie with my friend. I had this bad feeling as soon as I got in the car.

I have been driving for just over a year now and nothing bad has happened. I have not been any where near being in an accident, besides the once and that was not my fault as he was on the wrong side of the road.

This is a sum up of what happened:

I all of a sudden saw a big black Porché 4×4 in front of me at the robot. I slammed on brakes and hoped like shit I did not touch him, it did not feel like I did. Until I saw him move forward and his car door open I started shaking. Quickly slid my shoes on and got out of the car.

Me: “I am so sorry.”

Porché man: “Did you not see me?”

Me: “No, I am so sorry.”

I kept thinking I should give him some form of details. Then he looked at the bumper of his car, which had a 2cm white line on it.

Me: ” I am so sorry.”

Porché man: ” It’s a brand new car. ”

Me: “I am sorry.”

Porché man: “Ag.”

Flapped his hand at the car and got back in and drove away.

Clearly in a difficult situation I lose all ability to speak and look like a complete idiot.

Never leave the cream out

The cream really was well out of reach, well so I thought. 

This does no justice for the amount of cream that was smothered in his hair. (Do excuse the cleavage – will edit it out later)

You can see the earbud he ‘painted’ with too.





There is a little park up the road that Graeme and I have started going to often. This particular day I decided that I would tak bread to feed the birds, and they would not come to us they stayed by the nannies. Of course until we left the spot to play on the jungle gym. So we went back quickly and Graeme tried to feed the birds.

Oh and he wants to pet one, really badly.

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