I am over the moon it is a short week as we have a lot of shizzle on the boil at home, which The Hubs can do if I successfully procrastinate over which one to start for the next 4 days….

Who am I kidding? There isn’t a hope he will work through the mountain of house jobs that are piling up around our ears. I have constructed a List of Doom (besties with the chuffing Button of Doom that I moronically pressed and screwed up this very blog) for me to terrorise Hubs with, it has tick boxes and everything….

So I’ve discovered it is not ideal to rescue ninja kittens. They are vicious scaredy-cats (Dad joke 😬) who have weapons instead of claws. Ok, so maybe not actual real life weapons, but my scarred thighs may argue that point.

The shit bags (cats in this case, not kids) really enjoy stretching and scratching and dragging their weapons AAAALLLL THE WAY DOWN MY FLIPPING WALLPAPER. I never realised I could get angry with something that is seemingly so cute and fluffy on the outside. Gremlins.

The worst habit of aforementioned fur balls, is they are frightened to go outside. Although tempted by the leaves that fly around the garden (on the List of Doom) they appear to prefer it as a spectator sport as opposed to actual catching anything.

Story of my life, even my cats cant be arsed to make an effort. Between them, the kids, the Hubs and the Button of Doom, I am having a real crisis in confidence that it might actually be me.

My “It can only happen to me” approach to life is self manifesting! I feel like I need to reword my mantra and put something else out to the universe. Here goes:

Dear Universe,

“I am a slim, tall and beautiful being who can eat carbs without any detriment to my comfortable size 8 jeans.

I have a perfect family who love each other unconditionally and never EVER argue.

The cherubs chew with their gobs mouth shut and can manage to say green not greeyun when referring to the healthy array of vegetables they happily consume whilst sat at the dinner table.

My husband showers me with love and expensive thoughtful gifts, and always puts the seat up to pee, thus avoiding any late night, soggy bottomed surprises.

I have naturally perfect hair, skin, nails and teeth and I no longer need to use a straw as a toothpick.

I look effortlessly chic in designer clobber and do not have holes in my almost see-through leggings.

Sky-high heels are comfortable and I never cause my foot myself unnecessary pain just by being stupid me.

All the boxes on my to-do list(s) are ticked, and they have been achieved with speed and grace.

And finally, the world is loved and loves me back, whilst simultaneously creating world peace for one and all.

Thank you Universe for granting me such a fabulous existence,

Helen”

Well, that should cover it.

I’m off to see if I can recycle my hole-y leggings for a third day, whilst baby wiping an obscure item from my sweaty hair in the hope it isn’t what it looks like.

Having weighed myself this morning I can clarify I am still short, round and wouldn’t even be able to fit my elbow into any clothing boasting a single figure size.

My to-do list has had babies and I in no uncertain terms have ticked some boxes just because I am sick of looking at all the stuff I haven’t done, and in many a case, never bloody will.

Best go back to “It could only happen to me” quicker to say at least.

It’s Wednesday tomorrow folks, just in case you were wondering,

Helen 🖤

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