Ready meals and make up

Blimey, I was just looking at all the photographs that I have got lined up for numerous blog posts, and realised that I am further behind in my postings, than the Lib Dems are in the polls. So, I have decided to do what any self-respecting blogger would do in the circumstances; ignore the photographs in the hope that they will go away, and talk random crap instead.

I realise that this isn't probably the greatest long-term strategy, but at the moment all I am looking for is short-term gratification. Actually, I can't back that up. I tend to generally veer towards short-term gratification.

So what stuff have I got up to this week then?  Well by far the most important event was that I discovered a fundamental flaw with 'ready meals'. Not that I live off ready meals that is, jeez, that would be lazy. The flaw is that once they have been cooked, the instructions say 'peel off the film lid'. So you go to peel off the film lid and only the rim pulls off. So then you get a knife and try and cut through the middle bit and it comes off in thin strips, covering your fingers in superheated sauce as you try to pick the strips out of the food. Surely, bejesus, someone can invent a film lid that peels off in one go? Is it too much to ask in an age when we can send probes to Mars, that someone invent a film lid that doesn't shred?

On a totally unrelated note, Izzy came up to me this week and asked, "can I put some make-up on?"

At the time I was a bit distracted trying to extract the Hello Kitty teddy that was wedged in the toaster.

"Yeh, yeh," I said, tugging on Hello Kitty's feet.

With the Hello Kitty finally free (but coated in breadcrumbs like a chicken kiev), I shouted up the stairs, "come on Izzy, we need to go to the supermarket."

The sight that greeted me was this:

 Pic.No.1. Izzy's make-up

I recoiled in horror, "bloody hell Iz, we need to wash that off before going out."

Izzy's bottom lip started quivering. Aw crap.

"It took me ages, Nana showed me what to do," she said, tears welling.

Aw, double crap. "Ok, ok, you can keep it on.... you look erm, very beautiful," I replied despairingly.

Her face lit up and she beamed me a smile.

So in case you were wondering, yes I did have to take Izzy round Asda like that. She looked like Mrs Doyle from Father Ted, and everyone was staring at me disparagingly. My only respite was seeing another parent in there whose child was dressed in a full spiderman outfit. Our eye's met and for a split second, we 'connected' without having to say anything.

Ah the joys of parenthood.