Recently, somebody told the Dimple he was awesome for driving our kids to school. Like, wow man, you actually got in the car and like, buckled up, then put it into drive and you know, drove there. If that’s awesome then what’s making out at the top of the Empire State Building at 10pm when … More No. Everything Is Not Awesome.
“Why didn’t you and Daddy call me Luke Skywalker?” has been Bob’s question lately. A tricky one to answer, because son, we wouldn’t want the crap beaten out of you. Star Wars is Bob’s first addiction. Initially we were baffled how he even knew about Darth Vader and R2D2, not being frequent visitors to our … More The Day My Heart Strutted Off Without Me.
Gardening, I always thought, was for old ladies suffering from Empty Nest Syndrome; they miss watching children grow so plant sunflowers instead. With a track record of owning plants that committed suicide I expected to become a fusty gardener around 68. Having prided myself on always having a good title: Vodka Strumpet, Ad Slut, PR … More Nature, that place where large birds fly about, uncooked.*
On our second night with six baby chicks, we couldn’t hear the TV. “Can you turn down the chickens,” said the Dimple. Peering into their box I found blood down the spine of one of them and the brood kept pecking the same bloody spot like it was pasta carbonara. I believe I squealed. Tedium … More Mean Girls has got nothin’ on our chickens.
When you die, Mummy, we’re going to put you in bags and eat you,” said our four-year-old. He had just seen what happened to the pigs: they arrive, we feed them, they die and come back in small packages labeled Chops, Ribs and Jowls. After seeing a dead fox last week Bob’s been obsessed with … More The Cabin
When a couple of eight-year-old mouthy boys starting fighting around my four-year-old, I watched intently –through the camera lens– to monitor exactly when I needed to sprint over and save him. Bob, unaware the big boys could pummel him to a pancake, put a hand on each arm and commanded, ‘Freeze!’ It has been his … More Summer Of Lovin’ And Not Being A Dick.
It’s very strange, watching your country from another hemisphere take up the evening news. Our only surreal comfort with the Christchurch disaster, was that we had our own little earthquake – 30 miles away – on the same night. Somehow it was reassuring; the long fault fingers of the Pacific Rim were stretching up to … More If Scarcity Is The Mother Of Invention Then Darkness Must Be The Father.
Dear Tina. If our husbands want us to stick around, then radically changing what they do every few years is one way to keep us keen. Your chap has become a movie actor, larking with Ray Winstone and doing fight scenes with Temuera Morrison. That’s turned you on. Mine has become a member of the … More Wife Keeping 101. Dear Tina…