My life often feels like a comedy sketch show.
“Who wants to read about your life!” I hear you cry.
Well, you for starters otherwise how did you find yourself here eh (winks slyly whilst dodging a virtual slap). So I’ve always had a knack for making my seemingly normal and pretty average life seem a little more entertaining. I don’t know if it’s my ability to see the positive in everything that allows me to give my everyday situation a lighthearted edge. But nonetheless I often feel like if I was starring in my own episode of “Friends”, in that I may get a few titters if anyone was watching in.
So it’s been a few crazy weeks. Ain’t it always!
The other day something which at first seemed initially terrifying, soon became absolutely hilarious. I was in hysterics. After the shock subsided and my heart rate went down of course.
I literally try my damnedest to make sure George doesn’t develop arachnophobia., or any phobia for that matter! I had it myself up until a few years ago when we accidentally cured it with hypnotherapy. It was bad.
Every Time I was in an enclosed space with one I would scream or cry or both. Enclosed being a room in my own house! I love gardening but hubs would often find me doing some weird strip dance in the garden where I convinced myself one had crawled in my clothes. I used to even get colleagues to catch them in the corridor at work. Just in case it made its way into our department.
So arachnophobia majorly tamed, I’m pretty brave and even catch the buggers now! So this is how a pretty ordinary Friday went down.
I was washing up in the kitchen, seriously I feel like I live at the kitchen sink! We were due to go out and I knew my mum would be turning up whilst we was out. She always walks straight in and does the washing up if I haven’t. So in an effort to show her at 34 I’m a responsible adult and I have actually washed up the breakfast stuff by mid afternoon here I was.
George was merrily eating a kinder egg and watching Zootropolis of all things in the lounge next door. Suddenly he started screaming. The I’m-being-kidnapped-by -a-maniac-that’s-climbed-In-The-Window kind of scream. I ran in and as my eyes scanned the area, I saw a daddy long legs climbing up his bare thigh!
I’m usually all like “oh hi mr skinny legs, how can we help you today” when we see a spider. But the poor kid was just sitting there clutching his kinder egg and screaming, tears rolling down his cheeks. I smacked the spider with a nearby cushion then grabbed George and whisked him off the settee to the floor. As I gave him a hug to calm him, I showed him the defeated spider laying stunned on the settee.
He had a kinder egg so to be fair the situation calmed pretty quick. I told him I wasn’t scared I was just shocked by his screaming. As I wiped his tears and removed the spider I began laughing hysterically (although I also do this when I’m nervous). George smirked as I explained why it was actually quite funny. So fingers crossed that’s turned that into a happy memory and not a future phobia.
I don’t know about you but I’m a huge advocate for women being self sufficient. Despite having been in a long term relationship for 20 years, I don’t believe in man jobs and woman’s jobs. You may often see me use the hashtag jokingly embracing my inner pussycat doll with #Idontneedamantomakeithappen. I grew up watching my mum take her hand to everything and was encouraged to do the same. Not always successfully. Read all about the time I used an aerosol to hammer in a nail here.
So in our house I’m Jackie of all trades. Cooking, cleaning, DIY, decorating, gardening, changing a car battery, you name it, I can do it, or I’ll give it a go. So here I was painting our bedroom. We stupidly painted 3 of the walls brown when we moved in ten years ago. A vision of chocolate and duck egg blue was achieved but it was time to neutralise it as we are looking to sell up.
So here’s me on day two of white washing the walls with a magnolia emulsion. Day one went great. I painted the whole room in the last hour before preschool pick up. Then gave it a second coat after picking George up. Don’t ever let it be said that you can’t get shit done with a toddler around. All you need is an iPad and a pack of Haribos.
So day two and it needs a final coat. I’ve just about enough of my lush satin paint to finish the three walls. Let me set you a scene. The furniture is all pushed to the middle of the room. The tele is covered with a dust sheet in case there’s any splash back. I pick up the tub of paint, place it on the windowsill (yeah you see where this is going) proceed to prise the lid off. It’s a little stuff after using it the day before.
It pops off quite forcefully, the tub flips….the end of the divan, the bed sheets, the laminate flooring covered! Thick oozing paint. Thankfully hubs was due to go out in ten minutes but was still around because at that moment I really did need a man to make it happen! I needed him to lift the bed whilst I got the paint off the leg and stopped it being smeared across the floor. Lots of kitchen roll and wet wipes later (yet another use for wet wipes) and everything was clean. We lost the bed sheets but they were looking tired anyways.
The bastard paint was now over half gone, Luckily I managed to mix some other paint in to make it go further and the bedroom is now looking lush, it virtually glows in the dark! Moral of the story? Open paint on the bloody floor with the dust sheet down already you twat!
I literally couldn’t wait to tell my mum and sisters as it took us all right back to our childhood. My step dad John was up a ladder, paint on the top of her ladder, carpet down…you guessed it. The poor watering can got kicked all the way down the garden as me and step sis were sent to McDonalds to get a large milkshake to cheer him up.
I’d like to point out that no watering cans were harmed in the writing of this post, none made after the year 1995 anyway 😜