Friday, 18 October 2013

Day in the Life of the MILF (and her Pussies)

(I am illustrating this blogpost with pix of the kitty cats to show you how they are getting on.) 

Gah, well, I thought this week I would finally get back to normal. I had like a cold, which I was like 'oh it's just a cold' but it turned into that sort of cold certain people (naming no particular gender) call flu. Also, I had kinda upsetting news when I finally took Piglet for an eyetest, so I was a bit sad. 'N then my brother popped up and emailed me some extraordinarily good news 'n that totally threw me cuz TBH, I am not accustomed to massive slices of fantastic good luck falling out of the sky on my head like cherry pie with custard.


But the world does not stop eating or needing its knickers washed, does it. Plus Piglet suddenly revealed that all the intellectual type gurrlzzzz what I have been trying to persuade her to be friends with eat sandwiches, not school dinner. She has always wanted to eat sandwiches; I have resisted cuz it is a lot of work and jolly expensive if you do it properly, but at this I cracked and agreed to make a packed lunch every day this week. My mornings have been a bit like this:

Wake up full of cold and get up to find cats patiently waiting outside the bedroom door. They are very good and never start miewing and shouting for their breakfast. Here they are waiting for kitten milk. I am not sure you can see it in the pic, cuz she does not photograph well for some reason, Lakhi has really grown. When she came you will remember she was a dainty little catwalk model type. Well she is a effing lithe muscular jungle cat these days! It is an effort to pick her up, she is so heavy with muscle and her fur sort of shines; she is a magnificent beast.

Make breakfast and packed lunch. Consider cycling to school then realise that this will leave me feeling dizzy and grumpy with cold so I put Piglet and the Baron in the car to their delight (this is a v. rare occurrence, sweet things, I normally make them walk come hail or sleet or weather of the kind that caused Winnie-the-Pooh to write his song about how cold his nose and toes were growing). Piglet has been given a form for a football festival saying: Can you sign to agree that your child can referee. Since she has been playing football for approximately three weeks, I feel there must be some mistake and I intend to go in and make sure she really is part of the football festival before I let her off karate.I dress accordingly: boots, camelhair skirt and the aran cardigan. I know this has hit the spot when the footballing teacher stands up to stutter, I mean talk to me. I explain that Piglet's eye condition means she is unlikely to be good at sports but she is v. keen in a tone that means business and the footballing teacher says: "Yes, sport is all about taking part; if you show commitment you are allowed to play in the festival."

I go home to phone the vet  (cuz Lakhi is poorly), hang out three laundry loads, and apply the hairdryer to Piglet's track trousers which she has only just revealed she needs that morning for cross country running. It is the head cold going to my chest that is making me breathless; you need not think anything of it that I am panting as I hang out the laundry. If I am really in luck the cold will go to my chest, I will get a deep throat voice (wink) and telephone sales assistants will be saying: "Can you say it to me one more time: fuck off I am fed up of taking calls asking if I was ever so thick as to buy Payment Protection Insurance and can you say effing wanker and fuck off twice." 

I iron the track trousers in a final bid to get them dry, put cat and track trousers in the car, take the latter to the school and the former to the vet.

Our handsome vet is a bit of a sadist, so he says hopefully that although Lakhi does have a temperature and probably a small infection, she may also have some long-term dietary problem which will go on and on requiring expensive treatment forever. He suggests I move her onto some expensive dried cat food which the veterinary practice can sell me. I demur and say I will see how she goes on the expensive antibiotics he has just given Lakhi, then if she is still poorly next week consider the expensive dried food. I see the gleam in his eye that was a second skiing holiday die down and he says, Yah, good idea. He adds that she looks very well, which is pleasing cuz I also think she is looking good.

Here are Lakhi and the kitten doing some combat training. (You realise that this is like the fifth time the kitten has done this so Lakhi is not really surprised when she comes leaping out.)

And here is the revenge of the shopping bag.

After this vitally important work shooting the cats' Oscar winning performances, I finally managed to do something on some applications for more teaching. And after that, what with the cold and the running around and the applications, I did feel tired so I had a snoozle. Attached below are pix of the kitten snoozling on the MILF lap while I was watching Lord of the Rings for the nth time through my eyelids.

After the snoozling I went to the football festival. Yah, that was going to be good for my cold standing in a muddy field shouting! I wanted Piglet to know we believe in her foot skills with the round ball. It was acksherly a nice sunny afternoon and Piglet scored a goal! Yah, yah, I saw it all from my bench a long way away where I was knitting a sock and gossiping with other MILFs (LOL). I pulled my shirt over my head and ran around shouting gooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaalllllllll! LOL, dream on. When we decided to stroll up to the pitch and I found out it was Piglet who had kicked the goal about which we had heard them cheering, I made suitable amounts of noise and thumbs up signs at Piglet.

I collected Phoenix Egg from karate and we all went home to do spelling, reading and have chicken for tea.

Here are the kitten snoozing on MILF lap pix. 

(It has come to my attention that some people have trouble getting to sleep. I have to say that I am so shattered at the end of the day that I could happily lean on my sink full of the last lot of washing up and doze off, however I will post my thoughts on Ways to Get Dr. Sandperson to Gather You Up in Her Bosom and Carry You Off to the Land of Nod.) 

Oh yes, the tummy, the tummy, the tummy! 

Come on! the tummy!

 Ecsta-a-asy! 

Zzzzzzz
 

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