Do you deliver?

The truth is, I'm quite lazy and impatient when it comes to getting rid of clutter around the house.

Some people take photos and write great descriptions and sell items on Ebay auctions.

I can't be bothered.

So I turn to something guaranteed to move stuff out the door faster than a speeding train.

Facebook "Free stuff" Groups.

In my area there are a couple of Free Items pages, The idea is you just take a picture and let the first person who says "Mine" have it. They collect it, it's gone. Happy Days.

Yesterday I put a bag on there.. I put up two pictures and described it.

Free : "Large bag with shoulder strap, in new condition, perfect size for laptop, but can also be used for craft stuff, scrapbooking... two large inner pockets. MUST COLLECT today."

Pretty clear I would have thought.

So within 2 minutes a woman messaged me. 

"What else can it be used for?"

I wrote back "Umm, it's a bag. So bag-gy things. Put stuff in it. "

She replies. "Oh Okay. Can I pick it up on Friday?"

I reply "I would like it collected today, like I said in the ad."

She writes "Can you please deliver it to me? I live out of town."

Sigh. Lady, it's a free, 'as new' bag. Free, I'm giving it. Now you want me to use my petrol to bring it to you too?

There is a bit of a "Give an inch, take a mile" attitude going on there and although I realise she was asking politely , I can't help but roll my eyes and wonder. 

Maybe there has been too much Christmas spirit consuming, maybe it's the end of year crazy, maybe I just don't tolerate 'stupid' very well.

What do you do with clutter? 

The end of Santa

"Mum, is Santa real ?"

My nine year old sits cross legged on my bed, head cocked to one side and she gazes at me, waiting for an answer. 
I gulp, I hedge, I distract.

"Well, is he ?"

She waits on my reply and the longer I delay, the more insistent she becomes on a straight answer.

I'm looking into her eyes and honestly my heart is breaking. 
Big fat tears roll down my cheeks and I am trembling. 

Crashing around in my head, as I try to catch up with the transition is a running line of "Not yet, not yet, I'm not ready, I'm just not ready".

But she is trusting me to tell her the truth and with a few questions, I know she knows, I know it is time. 

Through tears I confirm her suspicion and with that, we reach the end.

The end of Santa, of the mystery and the childish stories. The end of little ones imagining reindeer flying through the sky. It's the end of milk and cookies, and reindeer food, of listening for sleigh-bells. The end of trying to stay awake to maybe catch a glimpse of Santa creeping through the house.

I know there is still fun, still presents and decorating, and anticipation of Christmas morning, but it's with a wiser view, a more mature understanding. 

I am still sad. Selfishly I hoped for another year or two before the magic disappeared. 

She asks why I am crying and I can't even put it all into words. How can you explain to your baby that she is still your baby even when she is big and smart and clever. How can you explain that even though you are delighted at the wonderful girl she is becoming, part of you longs for the simplicity of babyhood, and the days when your 3 year old simply believed everything you told them because you were their world. 

This morning I lay down on her bed beside her, and watched as she woke up. I explained to her that even though she now knows the truth about Santa, lots of kids in her class still believe in him, and that its important to keep the secret going for them. It's important that they find out in their own way, in their own time.

She just shrugged and smiled. "It's okay Mum. I won't spoil it for the little ones."

Another step towards grown up.


Have you faced this question? Did you bawl like baby too?

Snakes alive

Do You know what is really not fun?
A panic attack while you are driving.
All kinds of not fun.

Heart racing, adrenaline pumping,  rapid breathing, shaking hands, crying and cold sweats.
Because I ran over the biggest brown snake in Australia.
I am scared of snakes. 
Terrified of them.
Poisonous ones. Surprise ones.
I think we can safely call it phobia.

I hate walking past long grass, I hate messy overgrown gardens.
I do anything I can to convince my kids to not leave the safety of concrete footpaths anytime between the months of September and April. (yes I'm aware snakes can go on concrete but at least you have a fighting chance of seeing them).
I feel sick when I'm surprised by a picture of a snake, and have actually cried when they surprise someone on TV. 
I really dislike the letter "S".

So yesterday I dropped Miss 15 at her friends house in a nearby town and I was cruising home along the highway, singing at the top of my lungs to Tim McGraw when all of a sudden wriggling and coiling on the road in front of me was an enormous brown snake. 
I screamed like a little girl.
I didn't have any time to react really and I had to run over it. 
OMG

Thump thump. 

I was frantically looking in my headlights for signs of it on the road behind me. What if it flicked up and was under the car?
 I could see it in the rear view still wriggling and I struggled to hold myself together.
The only thing stopping me from pulling over and vomiting was the fact that there are more snakes waiting in the grass whereever I pulled over.

I know my reaction is unreasonable but then that is the very nature of a phobia. 

I wanted to call my daughter who I had just left and forbid her from going for any walks or out into the garden.
I was scared that the snake I just ran over was pregnant and that little baby snakes were now crawling around in the underside of my car. 
Every long stringy strip of bark from the ghost gums looked like more snakes and pretty soon I was driving along in my very own self contained Looney Bin.

If you have a small python and you can tell me that you have it and that it is not poisonous, I don't have a problem. I can even touch it... I won't enjoy it but I don't feel scared.
But the unknown snakes. The surprises, coupled with the fact that we lived in Snake Central Victoria where deadly King Browns and Tiger snakes are plentiful, are enough to make me want to pack up my family and move to the antarctic.

I made it home, after a long 40 minute drive, me talking myself around and around, knowing I'm being irrational and yet being completely trapped within my own cycle of fear and feeding the fear.

Hubby has gone to collect Miss 15 from her friends house just a few minutes ago. 
I told him to watch out for snakes.
He laughed. He doesn't get it.

I know that accompanying this story I should have a picture of a fierce angry snake but there is NO.WAY. IN. HELL. I am googling for that image so here is an adorable hedgehog baby. Because they don't jump out of the bushes and kill you.

image credit

Do you have an irrational fear?  How do you deal with it?

Weekend Writers Linkup is open. It you blog this weekend, please add your link. ...  xx

Please add your weekend post to the linky below, if you blogged Saturday and Sunday you can add each post separately.

Happy Blogging xx

The end of the Buttons

In a previous life I was a crafty designer, designing and handpainting over 600 button designs for crafting - quilting, stitching and scrapbooking. I adored it, and it gave me a little bit of pin money while I stayed at home with my littlest girl.

I have a huge laser machine ( and may or may not be responsible for sending Fiona from Imogen's Angels into a Laser Love Affair) . I taught myself a complicated Art Program and had the very best fun making all sorts of crazy and wonderful things.

I have designed everything from cats and dogs, snails and frogs, to castles, angels, quilt barns and daisies. 

Over the past few weeks I have come to the end of my crafty designing road. My laser machine has cut it's last button.

I am eager for button free cupboards, for less mess, for space.

As I clear out the boxes ( adding the buttons to my website) I struggle to remember making them all, but there are soooo many. They are oozing out of the top of the wardrobes, and from under the beds. My linen cupboard has no linen in it, just patterns and boxes full of buttons and plastic bags. 

As with all things the desire to hang on because it's safe, and because it has, at one time, defined me, is strong, and yet I am quietly confident that this is the right choice, and the right time. 

If you are a crafter of any sort pop on over to www.buttonbliss.com and have a little look. 

New Adventures are waiting, not to mention some precious cupboard space xxx

Weekend Writers Linkup is open. It you blog this weekend, please add your link. ...  xx

Please add your weekend post to the linky below, if you blogged Saturday and Sunday you can add each post separately.

Happy Blogging xx

Unbalanced

Once again I have got myself out of balance.
Working too hard, working too many night shifts. Saying "Yes" to everyone at work.

I've let my time and energy get spread so thin at work that I'm not being the parent I want to be.

Yesterday morning, I came home from my 8th night shift in the fortnight to find Miss 9 sitting at the table eating breakfast.
Her hair was fuzzy, fresh from bed. She had just pulled it back in a hairband without brushing it.

I was tired, so tired. I just wanted to fall into bed. 
I didn't say hello, or kiss her good morning.

I grabbed a hair brush and BRUSHED that hair, quickly, careless of knots that pulled at her little head. She just sat there quietly while her head got yanked around and I made it neat.

I didn't kiss my husband "hello". I didn't cuddle my dog. I didn't tell my kids to have a good day, or that I loved them as they walked out the door to school.

I haven't blogged in 3 weeks, even though I love it, I haven't seen my friends for ages. I haven't returned phone calls ( or library books) and I haven't cooked properly for days

I am out of balance.

I cancelled last nights shift.
I have given myself a few days off. 

I need to set some rules that I stick to, so that I can be the Mum I want to be.

How do you keep the work/family balance? 

Linking with Jess for  I Blog On Tuesdays xxx


 

An accidental Halloween

Yesterday was Halloween, which in Australia means.. not much really. Sure, in the $2 shops there is Halloween merchandise, but on the whole it is a non-event for most Aussies.

 

A couple of years ago a new family arrived in our street. On Halloween their two young girls got dressed up and went trick or treating.
Last year their numbers had increased to Six.
This year, as I was doing my shopping I had a thought, and threw a little bag of chocolate eyeballs into my trolley "just in case".

Yesterday at the supermarket there were 12 fat orange pumpkins on display for carving. I'm pretty sure they didn't expect to sell any, but at $1 per kilo, I thought "Why Not?" I've seen pictures on line and have been curious about how the whole thing worked...
I chose the biggest, and it cost me a whopping $4.87 .

After school. Sarah and I carefully removed its slimey innards - gross-  and carved our first pumpkin. It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, we discovered the skin is as tough as boots, but the flesh inside was like slicing apples. Miss 9 drew a jack-o-lantern face on the pumpkin and we set to work. Grand plans for wonderful art got quickly downscaled as we realised how tricky it is to manoeuvre a kitchen knife around inside a pumpkin neatly.

 

But in the end we had a BLOODY GOOD pumpkin head.

We put a tea light candle in it and placed it outside our door so any little "Trick or Treaters" would know we would welcome them.

At 6pm there were 4 groups of kids dressed up in costumes ( to be honest I think I've already seen most of those costumes at the Book Week parade this year) .

This is what I saw -

Kids running around being silly and goofey and having fun. This evening they were allowed to walk up and down the street, they felt safe and they were laughing.

I saw big kids walking, holding the hand of little kids. Big kids helping little kids in using their manners .

I saw a big brother lift his little sister up in his arms so she could have a turn at pushing the door bell. Then he put her down and helped straighten out her long sparkly princess dress. In that moment, as she looked at him, she ADORED him.

I saw Mums standing at their letterboxes, watching from a distance, trusting that the neighbourhood would be safe and kind.

I saw elderly neighbours clapping hands for a little boy who performed a trick - a fairly impressive backflip !

Miss 9 had already put on her witch outfit for the pumpkin carving, as you do, so when she saw one of her friends at our door she asked if she could go with them. Off she went, mingling into a group of kids she didn't know, making new friends.


The kids were polite and respectful, they used beautiful manners at every door.

I have to say that it was a lot of fun, it was so nice to watch the kids just being kids. We need more of that in our very serious, locked down world.

There has been a lot of talk on Social Media that Halloween is Un-Australian. That we don't need, and in fact MUST NOT succumb to this American holiday. That allowing kids to Trick or Treat is begging and bludging off neighbours.

Never-mind the fact that we celebrate Chinese New Year ( and we aren't China) , the Queens birthday is no where near her actual birthday, the nation stops for a horse race , apparently those are all worthy undertakings... I really don't understand the opposition to something that is really just a bit of fun for children.

With all the negative talk about Halloween, how it encourages kids to beg, to be hoodlums running through the street, the only questionable behaviour I saw came from a 50 year old married man who came to his door, yelled and swore at small children and lectured them on being UN-Australian. Guess who I admire more?

Next year we will be carving two pumpkins :-)

Bad Mother

This morning as I dropped my sweet 9 year old daughter at school, I got a lecture about healthy eating habits for children.

Hahahhhaaa.

Today Miss 9's class is making smoothies, with yogurt, berries and milk, and of course all ingredients had to be brought from home. As I helped my child with bags etc another Mum, a very efficient, focused and authorative Mum bailed me up near the classroom. She was there to help the class make smoothies, a noble act because , frankly, I'd rather staple my head to the carpet. 

She was watching all the children as they milled around. Frowned at any child who didn't have fresh fruit to put on their snack table, and down right outraged by any poor sod who didn't even have a box of sultanas.

One little boy's lunchbox fell open as he hung his bag up and basically the entire cookie aisle of Safeways tumbled out. That kid had everything going on, from Chocolate Oreos to Tiny Teddies. His sandwich, snuggled in the corner of the box (fighting for room) was a squished up Jam & White Bread mess.

After the kids had disappeared to play, she came to me and rolled her eyes.

"Can you believe Johnny's lunchbox?? I mean... OMG all that sugar. How hard is it for a mother to pack healthy options for their child? I pack salad rolls every single day for my Timmy. Salad and fruit. There is no excuse for such lazy parenting, Did you see how big that kid is, he doesn't need any extra carbs I can tell you ......."

....
....

( I listened as I watched as her little Timmy, her eldest child,  took a swing at one kid, a kick at another, then launched himself over the railing like a kamikaze ninja on speed... looks like little Timmy is a handful.)
.....
"Sugar is evil, my child is a saint, I'm perfect, I know it all" ... or words to that effect.

.... 

"Only LAZY mothers just pack jam or Nutella sandwiches. Sugar has no place in a child's diet Blaggggggg Blaaahhhhgggg Blaaaggghhh......... cookies are food of the devil.........................harp harp harp ............. something something............ blah"

I smiled sweetly, nodded thoughtfully, and moved off toward my car.

My 9 year old blessing has fairy bread in her lunch box today.

BAD MOTHER 

LAZY MOTHER

In the car, I chuckled. I can't wait for her to hit the teenage years and discover that no matter how tightly you lock Little Timmy down, he is going to toss her salad roll and carrot sticks in the bin and buy himself a big bottle of coke and a hotdog.

I look forward to the day when she realises that if you lined up every child in the school, you actually can't tell which ones eat home made bircher muesli at the carefully set dinner table for breakfast and which one snacked on Fruit Loops in front of the TV.

I didn't tell her that once or twice I have actually served Apple Pie and Ice Cream for dinner to my children - (fruit, carbs, dairy protein = winning!)

And just like that, there is a spring in my step, because I know, for certain, that I am a bad, lazy mother. And my kids are thriving on it.

A nutty fruitcake

I love my Mum's Christmas cake.

Mostly because it is not so much a cake, rather a great big pile of nuts and fruit that is held together with the merest smidge of cake batter. Buttery pecans snuggle next to juicy chunks of ginger, macadamias slide alongside sweet apricots and toasted almonds make the perfect partner to rich dates.
This cake is always better the longer it rests, so I like to make mine RIGHT ABOUT NOW!

I bake it, then wrap and let it sit in the fridge for a couple weeks before I allow myself the first slice.
It's extremely rich so a thin slice is all you need with a hot cup of coffee for the perfect after dinner indulgence, and it lasts forever. You can seriously impress mother-in-laws and school principals with this baby!

I make mine in a large ceramic Lasagne tray... I know that isn't traditional but I don't have a tin large enough and I'm not going to buy one for a once a year cook-off.

Here's the recipe. If you decide to give it a whirl, don't get too hung up on quantities. 650g nuts is fine, a few extra dates or apricots won't hurt. The original recipe has no ginger but I think everything tastes better with ginger so I add it in. You can use whatever nuts you like... this year I added cooking pistachios and didn't have walnuts.

It's still BLOODY AWESOME !

Mums Nutty Christmas Cake

Heat oven to 300 degrees F ( slightly lower if fan forced). Line an 8" square tin (or your lasagne dish LOL) with several layers of baking paper.

Get a LARGE bowl. I mean LARGE okay ?
Place in 750g mixed nuts (pecan, macadamia, almond, brazil, walnut...) 
PLUS
250g roughly chopped dates, 180g chopped dried apricots, 250g glace' cherries (and a handful of chopped crystalized ginger :-)

Over the tops of nuts and fruit sift 1/2 cup sugar and 3/4 cup SR flour.

In a separate bowl whisk 3 eggs til fluffy, and add 1 tablespoon of sherry (or fruit juice if you don't have sherry).

Pour eggs mixture over the nuts and flour and gently tumble mix until all dry ingredients are damp and 'cake-batter-ish'. 

At this point you will probably look in the bowl and think there is nowhere near enough batter for this to work... trust me! The batter is basically just the glue between nuts and fruit. You have enough.

Press firmly into the prepared tin. 
Bake for 1 hr 30 mins, reducing heat slightly in last half hr to prevent burning.

Cool in tin then remove from tin and wrap in foil. Refrigerate for at least 3 days before cutting. 

Soooo good!

What do you bake each year for Christmas? 

( This recipe has been handwritten in my Mum's cookbook folder for years. If it is the same or similar to one you have created, or have seen published please don't be nasty, just gently tell me where credit should be given. I haven't 'stolen the recipe', I just only know it as Mums Nutty Christmas Cake. )

Ten Reasons Teenagers are great

1. They can make you coffee - this is an important milestone for any teen, the love and gratitude that pours out from Mum when they bring a lovely steaming mug of coffee is comparable to the elation you felt the first time your small child successfully wiped their own butt. Extra points for a couple of pieces of peanut butter toast. 

2. They can organise their own playdates. Even better, at those playdates you no longer feel that slightly wary "oh god, please don't hit little Johnny over the head with the Tonka Truck this time" feeling. Teenagers know how to share with their friends, to take turns and to not cry if they don't get the cupcake with the most sprinkles.

3. They sleep in !
   I repeat - They sleep in !

4. They take care of their own personal hygiene. They shower themselves. Your back no longer aches from bending over the bath tub, no tears and tantrums on hair-washing night. You no longer have any information about the consistency of anyone's poo. You don't have to wipe anything .  I know ! Winning!

5. They get your jokes and can hold a real conversation that doesn't involve Barbie or Thomas the Tank Engine. Real genuine discussions with actual multi-syllable words. 

6. They can sit through an entire movie without needing a toilet break. 

7. They can help out. Teenagers are capable of washing a sink of dishes and they can finally reach the clothes line. I'm not saying bribery isn't needed to get them to help out, but it sure is nice to be able to share the workload a little and if it helps, think of it as 'preparing them for when they leave home'.

8. The angst of finding a suitable babysitter with National working with Children certificate and at least three references is no longer needed. Yes my friends, teenagers babysit themselves !! It has been years since I worried if a day carer was secretly a deviant, or felt the need to place hidden cameras in a stuffed teddy bear. 

9. You can start to reclaim some of the space from the acres of Lego, matchbox cars and Barbie dolls. I'm not saying teenagers don't have stuff - my girls have enough makeup and hair product to put on a broadway show of Priscilla Queen of the Desert- but it isn't taking up every centimetre of the floor and cupboard space in the family room. I can now sit on the couch without the unexpected surprise of a stiff Barbie leg venturing where it wasn't invited. A walk to the bathroom can be made without turning on lights and checking for Lego landmines. 

10.  Teenagers are a photograph coming into focus. All your hard work, all the worry and fuss. Every time you guided them through saying 'please' and 'thankyou', each time you sat them on the naughty chair, every parent teacher interview at school, every exhausted phone call to your best friend asking for ideas. This is where you finally start to see the results. It's not perfect yet, there are glitches and stumbling blocks. But ever so slowly, through the teen years, the picture comes into focus and you see the grownup person you have been nurturing.

It's a beautiful thing.

Linking with Jess for  I Blog On Tuesdays xxx


 

Panic

Wide awake at 2 am.

Heart pounding

Pounding

Pounding

Pounding




Wide awake. Fearful and yet not really able to pin-point the fear.

Afraid of what?

Fearful of ???

My heart is flying, bouncing.
I can feel every 'whoosh' of my blood as it thunders through my veins.

I am anxious. Unsettled.
I am frightened. My mouth dry, my hands clammy.
It's two am and I am absolutely terrified of ....
Nothing.
Everything.

I hate these rude wake up calls.

These uninvited interruptions to my slumber.

I hate the searching through my mind, the arguments with myself.

I hate wondering where this came from and what it means.
I hate trying to calm myself, to talk sense to myself.

I hate the moment when I realise once again that this is a random, unfounded physical reaction to a surge in Fight Or Flight Adrenaline.

That there is nothing to fear,

Because my heart is still pounding. And I remain hyper alert.

At 2 am.

Weekend Writers Linkup is open. It you blog this weekend, please add your link. ... anything goes xx

Please add your weekend post to the linky below, if you blogged Saturday and Sunday you can add each post separately.

Happy Blogging xx

Things I know - Raw

I know it sounds cliché , I know I am supposed to be far more enlightened.
I know that every step towards independence is a good thing and I know he will be alright.
But my heart aches.
It aches, raw and exposed.

My baby is not a baby and although many moments and footsteps have brought us to this place, although I have had many warning signs and A-ha moments, right now I am absolutely struggling with the fact that my baby does not need me.

He tolerates me, he humours me.
He loves me and quickly cuddles me in the morning, fleetingly and then he's gone.
It's as though he knows that if he lingers too long within my arms, in my clutching embrace, I just might not let him go.


I know how to love, and to protect fiercely.
I know how to close ranks, and I know how to close the doors.
If you need a master in shutting out the world, an expert in finding a quiet, safe haven, a retreat, I'm your girl. But ....

I don't know how to do this.
I don't know how to let go.

 

 

What I know, (and what I don't know) with Rhianna at A Parenting Life

 

 

The Bath - IBOT

Steam warms the room as hot water pours into the spa bath. A few drops of beautiful oil adds a delicate scent to the air. Large fluffy towels lie folded at the step, flickering candles give a soft glow. I have my favourite music playing softly in the background. A lovely fat book, freshly selected from the library waits for me, a glass of wine on the ledge beside me as I dip my toes into heaven. I sink in slowly, savouring the delicious pinpricks that spread across my skin, adjusting to the new soothing warmth.

'Just what I needed. An hour or two to just be calm and serene'

photo credit

Total relaxation. I sigh, closing my eyes and resting my head back to float in this cocoon.

Knock Knock

A whisper through the door .. "Mummy I forgot to give you a note from school."
I smile gently and softly say "That's okay chicken, you can show me in the morning. Go back to bed" .. I drift my fingers across the surface of the water, watching tiny bubbles form and disappear.
A louder whisper " Mummy I love you. Are you going to kiss me goodnight?"
I reply "I love you too sweetie, and I already kissed you when I put you to bed, remember? Hop back in bed now okay ?"
Little feet patter away.
I force my shoulders down, stretch my neck out and let the heat work its magic on the bunched muscles.

photo credit

"Calm and serene...."


Knock Knock

"Babe, do we have eggs?" asks The Man I Married.
I open one eye and reply "Yes. Third shelf on the fridge."
He leaves.  He returns. "I can't find them. Are you sure we've got some?"
I sigh.: " Well they were there this morning.. do you need them right this second?"
TMIM replies " No, don't worry, just relax and enjoy your bath."
I turn on the spa pump and jets of water start to knead my back. I can't hear my music anymore, over the noise of the pump. I stare at the flame of the candle, imagining it is alive. 

 'Shhh, relax. Calm and serene, calm and serene'

photo credit 

Knock Knock

"Mum, did you wash my skirt for school today? I can't find it." she yells through the door.
I sit up, water sloshing against the bath edge. 
"I washed everything that was in the hamper. If you put it in there I washed it. If it wasn't in the hamper it was not washed. I am trying to have a bath."
There is no reply but I can sense she is still there waiting for more.
"I do not have it in here with me."
"Fine " she says, in that way that tells me everything is far from fine. A few seconds and a door slams.
I sit there, water cooling on my back as I try to gather myself and find my happy place again.

photo credit 

 'Relax. Be calm and serene, please be calm and serene'

Knock Knock

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

"What?"  (hissed between clenched teeth.)
J-man says through the door " Do you know I have an army cadet camp this weekend?"
I roll my eyes. "Yep. I know that."
"It's just that I need to get my snacks. We have to take our own snacks. When do you think we can do that?"
I count to ten. "How about tomorrow hmm? Because right now, I'm naked in the bath. "
J-man thinks it over "Yep, good plan". He walks away.

 'Focus! You are Calm and serene !'

The spa pump is giving me a headache. I can't get comfortable.

photo credit 

Knock Knock

The Man I Married opens the door and switches on the heat lamps. I am blinded. .
 "Wow, it's too hot in here." He flips on the fan and any exposed, damp skin on my body immediately puckers into goosebumps.
"Is your bath nice? The dogs wanted to say hello."
Two fluffy dogs come jumping onto the bath ledge, knocking over my glass of wine. They both enjoy the spilled contents as I watch.

 'Calm and serene have left the building'

I gaze at TMIM. I can't find words, or at least any words that will not leave him and I at loggerheads.

"Actually, I think I'll just get out."

He looks at the bath and then back at me. " So soon? That's a bit of a waste of all that water don't you think?"

He walks out, leaving the fluffy ones behind, trying to jump in the water with me. Damp puppy paws have reduced my towels to a dirty mess.

"Bonkers" I mutter. "My life is completely bonkers".

Linking with Jess for  I Blog On Tuesdays xxx