» Common

You can have water at home...
Babymum was in the supermarket, and a young mother and daughter behind her had this conversation...

Daughter: Mum, can I have a drink please?
Mum: Yes love, go and get one
Daughter: Can I have this water?
Mum: NO! Get a coke, you can have water at home!

Common? Maybe. Irrefutable logic? certainly.
(Wed 22nd Oct 2008, 8:05, More)

» Tightwads

Supermarket daily specials menu
Not tight I don't think, just bright, but maybe that make's me all the tighter (I've said tight too much).

At my old office there was a lovely, big Sainsbury's that I'd go to for my lunch and I would always go to the refrigerated, going out of date section to pick up a delicious bargain.
(Fri 24th Oct 2008, 8:36, More)

» Cringe!

I've seen that guy somewhere...
Mum's are a magnet for cringable episodes it would see, god love them.

I was walking with mine through the mighty heart of Kingston Upon Thames, when I spotted a face in the crowd I know I recognised, so I pointed him out to dear mother, saying "I've seen that guy somewhere before, on the telly I think, do you recognise him?"

Minutes later I worked it out and breathed a sigh of great relief that she'd said no.

He was, of course, mega-star of the 10 minute TV-X teaser, Superdick.
(Fri 28th Nov 2008, 13:22, More)

» Family codes and rituals

Threes and Twos
When walking down the street it is IMPERATIVE to not walk all the way across a set of 3 man hole covers (coming out the side of a 3 doesn't count), this will only result in disaster. However walking across a set of 2 will bring you a dose of good luck as strong as a tiny, tiny chilli (seeds and all).

The mighty 2's also have the power to negate the evils brought on by having walked across a 3, but virtue of a cruel twist of pedestrian traffic or sheer stupidity.

Introduced to me by a friend, but spread to my siblings and still alive and well.

Beware the 3's and covet the 2's.
(Fri 21st Nov 2008, 16:38, More)

» Blood

That's what birth smells like...
Shortly before I became babydad and on a little visit to babymums old school country living grandmother, I developed a strong desire to skin and cook a rabbit. Being a wannabe river cottage type, I thought it would be an excellent way to better appreciate meat and it's origins.

So with rabbit duly delivered, offal removed and quickly fried (very fresh rabbit liver is delicious by the way), I hung the beast for a couple of days in the shed as instructed, before the skinning and jointing process began.

A odd experience pulling the pelt off, a bit like removing a very wet sock, but odder still, and definitely not advertised, is the smell... very, very richly irony with an undertone of fillet steak, not unpleasant but certainly new to my nostrils.

A couple of weeks later, babybaby pops his head into the world and slithers onto the sheets like an emotional firework, joy, relief, pride, fear, tears and a load more joy... all to the olfactory smelltrack of bunny butchery.



I've seen some humorous final lines about length which I don't quite understand, however I can tell you a little trim downstairs can help a great deal.
(Tue 12th Aug 2008, 17:15, More)