I am currently without FFS-worthy material. My new fridge arrived Wednesday afternoon and the world is a shiny, glossy, arctic white kinda place at the moment.
It very nearly wasn't, however. So sit back and let me regale you with the FFS-worthy tale of when I first set eyes on my new beloved appliance....
I spent weeks researching our new fridge.
#1Hubby was all silent and non-commital throughout the selection process. No opinions, nothing. And from a man who would make sweet love to his bloody ironing board if it were possible, I have to say, I was expecting a little more enthusiasm over such an enormous whitegoods purchase. FFS.
So last Sunday we went to our discount retailer of choice.
At this point my household goods lovin' Hubby emerged, wanting everything but the fridge I had pre-selected. FFS.
I used all my wifely means to passive-agressively convince him that he wanted the fridge I had chosen.
I signaled the end of dicussion by dramatically stalking over to the rice cooker section. I blew ours up last week (FFS) and so we also needed a new one, as I have no bloody clue how to cook rice the old-school way. FFS.
The kids followed me, because they're insightful beings who know that Mummy always wins and Daddy's resistence is futile.
I grabbed a rice cooker, barked over my shoulder "C'mon kids!" and we stalked back to the fridges.
#1Hubby had taken adequate time to correct his thinking, and it was agreed that we would get my fridge.
So then I inserted the required half hearted mumble about how it wasn't fair if he just gave in because I wanted the other fridge, and that we would get the one he wanted....
At which point he very enthusiastically insisted we get the one I had researched. Works every time, heh.
As we were sorting out delivery of my gorgeous hunk of coolness, it was Miss3 who piped up with the question of the day...
"Where's JJ?"
We looked around. No Mstr3 anywhere. FFS.
Instantly, my mind goes to that mother-place where I'm picturing his organs on Ebay. FFS.
I panicked and took off back to the rice cooker section, screaming out "JJ?! JJ?! JJ?! JJ?!".
Other shoppers looked on, perplexed as to why this ranty mad woman was running around repeatedly shouting out a single letter of the alphabet. FFS.
I saw him being led to the front of the store by an employee, so I yelled out:
"THAT'S MINE!"
Everyone turned to look. Mstr3, who had been happily chatting to the stranger
"Shit Mummy! Where were you?"
Miss3 giggles and joins in, followed promptly by Miss6.
I am now surrounded by kids yelling:
"SHIT SHIT SHIT! SHIT MUMMY! SHIT SHIT SHIT!"
A few FFS-worthy things....
Neither #1Hubby or I even noticed that Mstr3 was not with us. Stellar parenting. FFS.
My kids were swearing at the top of their lungs in a crowded shop. Classy. FFS.
They were circling me as they did so, meaning I couldn't covertly back up and disassociate myself from them, so that nobody would peg me as the parent of such foul mouthed little darlings. FFS
The end result - I looked all kinds of neglectful and all kinds of trailer trash. FFS.
Shit Mummy allright - All starry eyed and distracted by a fridge plus the glow of a marital victory, and didn't realize one of my children was missing....