You might have noticed from the last few posts that the baby is crying more. It’s not that bad, she never cries for no reason, usually it’s just that she is hungry or wants a cuddle. But she cries just ever so slightly too much for a nicotine fiend like me to handle with no cigarettes. So I went to Boots to buy some more nicotine gum.
I had a tuna sandwich before I went and as I was leaving the house I realised a terrible thing. I swore blind that I would not be one of these parents that lives vicariously through their kids and ends up lost when they grow up and leave home. I will never just wear clothes that are boring and practical. I’m still young and vital, I have my own life, and, OK, I might not be the snappiest dresser but the jeans are flared, I’ve got a pair of Converse on. But then this happened. As I was draining the tin of tuna I squirted it all over myself, and then just dully rubbed it into my top with a dishcloth. And that’s how I left the house. What is happening to me?
I had a tuna sandwich before I went and as I was leaving the house I realised a terrible thing. I swore blind that I would not be one of these parents that lives vicariously through their kids and ends up lost when they grow up and leave home. I will never just wear clothes that are boring and practical. I’m still young and vital, I have my own life, and, OK, I might not be the snappiest dresser but the jeans are flared, I’ve got a pair of Converse on. But then this happened. As I was draining the tin of tuna I squirted it all over myself, and then just dully rubbed it into my top with a dishcloth. And that’s how I left the house. What is happening to me?
No comments:
Post a Comment