What the fuck was I thinking!?

I mean really... what the fuck was I thinking?

One minute I'm 17 and swearing on my mother's grave I will never bring a child onto this god forsaken hellhole we live in, next minute it's 20 years on and I have 3 of the little bastards. What vile concoction of chemicals has been floating about in my head for the last decade?

Call of the wild

I pay homage to the gods of contempory western society and thank them for running hot water, bum wipes and much of modern medicine but beyond that, you really have to wonder if much of the other crap in our lives is worth the price we pay.

Sure, creme brulees are good, yet it's amazing how fantastic a crappy bit of toast cooked on a rusted campfire cooking plate can taste.

Ok, I appreciate not having to cultivate and crush the grain the make the bread...

Infestation

Lice, mice, fies, fleas and children. I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

This milk smells funny

As they get older kids tend to do less and less funny things. I guess Little Miss is at the stage where there are more embarrassing incidences then funny ones. Like having to explain about sperm banks. "How do the men get the sperm into the test tubes Mum? It's not like they can just pee in a cup."

What do you say?

Pain in the knee

I'm presently enjoying making jokes about having to cut off Little Miss' leg at the knee. She is in need of an arthroscopy to fix torn and malformed cartilage. I guess that now and then when the girl cries wolf there is actually one on the prowl.

Puddled up

I've purchased a pair of gumboots for Sir Whinge-a-lot. He LOVES them. So I asked him "what are they for?".

"Gumboots is for jumping in muddles Mum!".

The Don

I'd recently made a pot of percolated coffee at breakfast and left the pot on the stove with a little coffee left in it. In the afternoon I noticed Sir Whinge-a-lot playing with the pot and wrestled it off him only to find The Don sat at the table with a plastic cup of espresso. He was most incensed when I took it off him. Talk about a real wog.

B1 and B2

B1 has turned 3. He's a fairly typical toddler I guess. His speech isn't the best -- not clear at all. He makes up for it with an uncanny ability to notice and remember things. The midget on the other hand speaks quite well for a 2 year old. Won't be long until his speech is better than his brother's. They are both cute, but fuck we're over listening to tantrums -- from all 3 of them.

OMG!

What manner of arrogance lead me to believe that if I bred with a reasonably intelligent man, I'd produce an offspring who was smarter than the average dipshit? Or is it simply that the average moron is so profoundly retarded?

It has finally happened

I needed to look at my laptop to work out what day of the week it was today.

I have fought valiantly, but this day marks the beginning of endless monotony, when all the days roll into one enormously long one.

God help me.