After a pretty abysmal week with BB today burst into being with a bit of better news. Eager to share my good fortune I hurried home from the office and bounded into the house.
The sight that greeted me was beautiful, my dear saint of a mother down on hands and knees scrubbing my poor neglected floor.
So by following lives cruel rules I have aged another sodding year.
My wrinkles have increased as has my desire to encase my feet in soft slippers when ever it is socially plausible.
When I grow up I want to be just like my mum.
No really I do, I doubt there could be any greater compliment.
Dear teenaged self,
For the love of god take that bloody hideous over sized Manic Street Preachers T-Shirt off and burn the indie flowery skirt. Enjoy the sensation of having a stomach that doesn’t ripple when you laugh and fold over the top of your jeans, wherever possible expose it by wearing crop t-shirts or bikinis – even when it is cold.
Tonight was a turning point for me, I surprised and disappointed myself, I used the ultimate ridiculous threat. Twin boy and I had a falling out. He was so naughty …