Who did what at Chez M-G this week?
Our fearless leader* had a big week completing his first assignment for uni. Yes, our lovely B has embarked upon an Engineering Degree which he does off-campus and inbetween the demands of a full-time job, a full-on family and a fully demanding lady love (me). To say he is our hero is an understatement. To say that when he talks to me about physics I want to put my head in the microwave is very rude but ultimately, very true.
*No, of course he's not really the leader. But you've got to let them have something, ya know?
Our fearless baby proved his fearlessness once again by half-falling, half-diving off our bed and directly into the handle on the bedside table. With his eye. He screamed in that way you never want to hear your baby scream. Particularly before 7.30am in the morning. Like a little prize fighter, he had a cut above his eye and the imprint of the rather lovely decorative drawer handle slanting diagonally across his eyelid and underneath. I'll take that Mother of the Year award now, thank you very much.
Our fearless preschooler quickly became my favourite for the week when I arrived at his daycare centre one afternoon to find him still wearing the clothes I had sent him there in that morning. It's not the first time he has achieved this feat but apparently, last week, toilet training was a very distant second to the importance of being outside playing. Hence, sneakers full of pee. And hence, the daycare staff sending home the wet clothes and shoes in little nappy bags. Hence, me taking the little nappy bags out of LD's backpack and taking them down to the laundry. Hence, me having three million things racing through my head at once while I was taking the nappy bags down to the laundry along with some actual nappy bags with actual dirty nappies inside them. Hence, three days later, thinking to myself, 'LD needs shoes on before we leave the house. Where are those sneakers?' Hence, me thinking, 'Ummm, I don't remember washing the pissy clothes and sneakers from daycare the other day…' Hence, me having to bin dive for nappy bags full of perfectly good clothes that just happen to smell a bit like pee. Hence, ewww.
The real fearless leader (me) was forced to admit to a very deep fear last week when I came across the biggest motherfucking spider I have ever seen. Actually, I have almost certainly seen a bigger Huntsman spider but that's really all in the leg span. Horrifying but nothing like I faced off with last week. I was sorting through mountains of clean washing (pre-Sunday's Sexy Six) and sitting on B's bedside table was the fattest spider IN THE WORLD. I scoured the internet for an identifying picture which served only to give me the worst night's sleep afterwards, haunted by the thought of spiders crawling on my pillow as I slept. But at least I know it wasn't that particular spider. Because I killed the fuck out of that thing. It's body was so fat that when I brought my weapon of choice (ballet flat – murder most poetic) down on top of it, it went SPLAT! like something out of Alien. The fucking thing exploded leaving a liquid corpse. Like a staked vampire. That's not how spiders usually die. Most spiders just crumple into a pile of spindly legs. I like that. Spiders that go SPLAT! – deeply uncool.
Did the first Weekly Wrap-Up Portrait happen this week? No, it did not. So it's another little number from the vault.