Hot- footing the Adverts and a Weekend Recap

Whenever I sign into my hotmail account I get the same advert “Feel the Rush, Make the Move”. What is this then? An advert for Lynx deodorant aimed at small boys who clearly have no understanding of the nasal preferences of women? Or perhaps an advert for semi-skimmed milk? No, it’s trying to tempt me to Wellington, New Zealand. Frankly, they don’t need to advertise to me. I’d go, sign me up, just find me a job, pay the moving expenses and, oh, I’d really prefer a beach house.
It’s been a strange weekend. If you’re not interested in the minutiae of my weekend stop reading here. I won’t mind! We visited uber-eco-warrier- supremely practical and sensible friends(I’m sure they won’t mind being called that). They have a new baby and its tinier at nearly a month old, than my little blokey was when he was born. Rushing home, as a fully paid up member of bad mummy club, I gave my baby fish and chips from the chip shop, just to add a bit more weight. Suffice to say, he couldn’t shovel it in fast enough! Nothing like a chip shop chip, is there?
Then hubby got struck down with a terrible stiff neck. Meningitis? I wondered, but no, just an awkward sleeping position. I put it down to the extremely old, full of millions of dust mites and probably at least one entire shed of skin, pillow he is attached to. This led me to take him on a walk to supermarket to get the weeks shop. Whereby, I got the most amazing wine bargain, a case of top quality Western Australian plonk for £12! But this also meant that I had at least an elephants weigh worth of stuff to shovel in my bag and the bottom of the pram. At one point, I thought that maybe it wasn’t such as bargain. As an entirely new replacement pram might be worth more than the wine. Still, things carried on like that until we watched some old bags on the Antiques Road show realise the true value of their ‘tat’. Hubby has now gone to work moving like a 1980’s robot, if it carries on I’m entering him into one of those 1980’s dancing contests.


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