We are live from the leisure centre.
I’d like to point out that I hate swimming lessons. I have just had the mother of all breakdowns in the car because yet again we were late. I did my Special Basil Fawlty impression where I shake my fist and punch myself in the face in a frenzy of anger. We were due to set off at 8.45. We set off at 8.56. The lesson should be thirty minutes. We usually manage the last fifteen. It takes my children over thirty minutes to have a shower and get changed afterwards. They then empty my purse for the bastard vending machine.
I am an official psycho bitch from hell this morning! No excuses, no “I’m due on” no “I’ve got a hangover”. Just “my kids have fucking pushed me to the brink of madness. In fact fuck that. I think that I’ve lost it!”
I hate the push to get the little shits out of the door seven days a week. I hate that they do nothing that they should in order to leave the house ever, without being shouted at. Even when they’re shouted at, they don’t actually listen. Occasionally when my shouting becomes particularly frenzied, they realise that I’m cross and start to weep.
Every day there is surprise on their faces when I demand that they put shoes AND socks on. They are so lazy that even when it’s freezing, they will try and put on their shoes without socks despite my explanation that their shoes will rub and their feet will stink.
I hate that they can’t be bothered to have a drink without being told to. I’m in awe of the little shits dedication to being dehydrated. I expect that one day they will just fucking shrivel up and die.
I can’t believe that they will walk out of the house with no coat on despite rain and the temperature being three degrees but they will have an iPad clutched to their breast.
And on top of all this, and just to actually have me actually lose my shit a bit more Dangerous took The Thug Pug for a walk. The only time that Dangerous takes the dog for a walk is Saturday morning. He sauntered back after around seven minutes and let a very wet dog bound around the house shaking himself.
“He won’t walk because it’s raining” was his simple explanation.
I need to buy a present for Bella to take to a birthday party this afternoon but random violence keeps erupting from the changing room that the little fuckers are sharing so I’m stood outside as they’ve locked me out, threatening them as all the other nice mummies look on in horror.
Fuck my mother fucking, shit, bastard life! Fuck vending machines! Fuck swimming lessons! Fuck the lot of it! I’m going fucking shopping to buy myself some Black Friday happiness!