The part of Awesome Mummy will be played by me – of course.
The part of the Loving Children will be played by the Damn Emos and the Tiny Terrorist
The part of Loving Husband will be played by that great lump of bastard lounging on the lounge.
So the Awesome Mummy asks her loving children what they would like to eat.
The Loving Children respond ‘I dunno’
Awesome Mummy clenches her jaw and reminds Loving Children that the store is all out of ‘I dunno’ so think of something else.
‘Whatever’ respond the Loving Children. Loving Husband is no
fucking help, he is rather partial to the ‘Whatever’ too.
Awesome Mummy makes a list to take to the mecca of under clothed, over muffin topped arsehats. She shows the list to the Loving Children.
‘What do you want to add? Something for school lunches? Dinner? Breakfast?
Give me a fucking clue what you want!‘
Loving Husband adds ‘Big Screen TV’, Loving Children add ‘iphone’
Hilarious. Really fucking Hil-air-eeee-ooous.
‘I want to eat healthy like’ mutters the oldest Loving Child. After coming home from work at Hungry Jacks (Burger King) and sampled most of their wares with a pitiful staff discount.
‘Sounds like a plan!’ Awesome Mummy gets a little over excited. Visions of a list filled with food that will be eaten rather than added to the list of things to do – ’empty fridge of rotten healthy foods and restock chocolate’
‘What would you like?’ she sets herself up for what is coming. But she stupidly thinks today will be different.
The vein in Awesome Mummy’s temple starts throbbing.
‘OKaaaaaay, lets start again’ she tries to sound happy and encouraging, but in reality it comes out a little like Reagan in The Exorcist.
The Loving Children and Husband look at each other and smirk. Awesome Mummy is losing the plot again.
‘How about you think of something you like to eat, and I will put it down on this little piece of paper and like magic it will appear!’
Mucho rolling of
Awesome Mummy goes it alone. She menu plans. She checks stocks of toilet paper, washing powder, various soaps and lotions and ‘that time of the month’ supplies (in reality is it every day of the month save a couple) she brainstorms with herself about delicious snacks and the like.
She hauls all the shit home cradling a double shot skinny latte in a milkshake cup.
She wrestles with all the bags, back and forth from the car, almost spilling her latte, while Loving Children and Husband
sit on their fucking arses are otherwise occupied, unpacks all the shit and sits down to catch up on emails/blogs/Plurk/Twitter her breath.
Loving children wander in. ‘Oh Hi! I am hungry’
‘s head spins and she spews pea soup indicates that she has just been shopping and the cupboards and fridge are full.
‘Muuuuuum! There is nothing to eat!’
Awesome Mummy pours herself a vodka and orders pizza.