Or maybe I fell over that precipice and down into the depths of insanity one sunny day without realising it.I love parties. I am determined that each season or milestone be celebrated. Notched up on life`s great wooden bedpost for prosperity. A good time was had by all on this day. Let the memory warm us later in the sunset of our lives as we rock in a wicker chair, the wind caressing our silver locks...or if bald, the lovely cactus jungles that older folk seem to spurt from nasal and aural orifices........ in some home, somewhere far.,far...... hopefully ... far forward in time from now.
"Is this what you class as `resting`?"scolds hubby in his finest ` I know best` tone.I am stood in the kitchen, on one foot, looking like a bloated flamingo. I deftly push the end of the crutch against the touch pad key on the microwave and it duly hums into action,. Microwave knows her place after toaster nearly took an early morning flying lesson, courtesy of one manic mummy. "Just wanted to put the nails on the witches` fingers before the halflings awake.!" I cheerfully explain. I stand back and admire my handiwork. Sixty sausages boiled, chiseled and topped with a carved tomato nail, ketchup glued to the end. Witches` fingers. I point at the plate and with pride enquire."So what do you think of that?" A moment`s silence filled with hubby`s head nodding up and down while he searches for the right words to describe the culinary work of art laid out before him. " Yeah....lovely.Kids love sausages!" Indignation inflates my chest, a timely air sac between hubby and I."Sausages?" I cry," Sausages...?"I hold one up, the tomato nail slides off onto my dressing gown. Sisters together in exasperated solidarity. "This is a...." Now I search for the apt wording," ....not just any old sausage....It is culinary craftsmanship at it`s......it`s pinnacle!" Laughing hubby,"Okay! They are amazing!" Hubby should thank his stars that I am not a high maintenance type of wife,I think smugly. Easily satisfied,am I.My grudges always have a statue of limitations.
Hubby."What`s that on your cheek?" I brush and find a seaweed cut out mouth. "Oh,thanks!" I hum" I wondered where that mouth had got to." As I press it down onto a mini pizza surrounded by it`s clones. All grinning manically with mini tomato noses and olive eyeballs. In a few hours, this house will be overrun with thirty small bodies. Each and everyone a little powerhouse of energy to be amused, entertained, fed, watered and contended with. "You need to slow down," hubby yields his gem of advice,pointing a foot in the splint.
It is just after five in the morning. I am stood, like a giant flamingo. Foot in a splint.Various plates crammed with the Halloween spirit. Decorations galore. Balloons awaiting with bated breath. At this point, every time at this point, I always stop, only for a second mind as I just don`t have the time to dawdle. I always stop and think `Why do I do this to myself?` Especially `Why do I do this to myself when I have a broken foot?`
I might have a stone called `Mossy` who I like to spend an evening with on the sofa, here and there, deep in debate on such weighty topics as `Why do rubber washing up gloves always make your hands stink?` I`ve even been known to stick plasters on my nipples in an attempt to wean small beings from the booby. None of these things would fit the criteria for being certified as `nutty`. Neither do I feel the need to compete with other mummies. I haven`t even got a hairstyle let alone a recognised parenting style. Neither do I desire to win the Alfalfa....or whatever it is....Mummy tiara.
I do it for my little ones. For the warm glow I see on their faces, on their friends` faces. Because each day really is a gem. Because life isn`t a dress rehearsal. I am determined to be happy. To enjoy life and seize it by it`s goolies.This is it. So, I will continue on this quest. I am sure my Witches` Fingers are going to be legendary. Sausages indeedy!
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