In one of those unusual and shocking instances where what happens on the news actually impacts on real life, my pipes froze. I mean the water pipes in the flat, so stop sniggering at the back. There is nothing I can do, but the heating is a closed system so we can still run the boiler on the water that’s in there, and we have a power shower (for some reason the cold tap still works. Must be a different pipe). So all it really means is that we can’t do the dishes. Hooray! And we can’t wash any shitey baby clothes. Boo!
Despite knowing in my heart of hearts that the heating system would be fine we panicked, what with having a baby and everything, and called out a plumber anyway. It cost us a £93 to find out that the pipes were frozen and there was nothing we could do but wait for it to get warmer. We already knew both of these things.
Oh well. Today Lynne was annoyed with me. This was because I don’t have boobs. You see, I can waltz out to the shop any time I want while she is welded to the hungry baby. She hadn’t been out of the house for days and was going a bit stir-crazy, so she decided to go to Boots, to look at nail varnish and buy nappies. I would stay in with the baby; this was the plan. She wouldn’t be gone long.
But instead of leaving the house, she stood over me with her coat on being grumpy while I played with the baby. ‘Stop fussing!’ I shouted eventually (and quietly, to avoid upsetting the delicate sensibilities of the child). ‘Just go, if you are going!’
When she came back she told me that the supermarket was rammed with people panic-buying all the shit. It’s funny how the British like to think of themselves as generally stoic, level-headed people, but then if anything happens everyone goes mental. IT’S SNOWING! CIVILISATION WILL COLLAPSE! BUY UP BOTTLED WATER AND DISPOSABLE LIGHTERS! GET A DANGEROUS DOG!!!
At least for a couple of weeks of the year the main issues that affect the State Of The Nation aren’t wheelie bins and terrorists. They are snow and terrorists.
Despite knowing in my heart of hearts that the heating system would be fine we panicked, what with having a baby and everything, and called out a plumber anyway. It cost us a £93 to find out that the pipes were frozen and there was nothing we could do but wait for it to get warmer. We already knew both of these things.
Oh well. Today Lynne was annoyed with me. This was because I don’t have boobs. You see, I can waltz out to the shop any time I want while she is welded to the hungry baby. She hadn’t been out of the house for days and was going a bit stir-crazy, so she decided to go to Boots, to look at nail varnish and buy nappies. I would stay in with the baby; this was the plan. She wouldn’t be gone long.
But instead of leaving the house, she stood over me with her coat on being grumpy while I played with the baby. ‘Stop fussing!’ I shouted eventually (and quietly, to avoid upsetting the delicate sensibilities of the child). ‘Just go, if you are going!’
When she came back she told me that the supermarket was rammed with people panic-buying all the shit. It’s funny how the British like to think of themselves as generally stoic, level-headed people, but then if anything happens everyone goes mental. IT’S SNOWING! CIVILISATION WILL COLLAPSE! BUY UP BOTTLED WATER AND DISPOSABLE LIGHTERS! GET A DANGEROUS DOG!!!
At least for a couple of weeks of the year the main issues that affect the State Of The Nation aren’t wheelie bins and terrorists. They are snow and terrorists.
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