By 8:40am last Friday, I had already started this week's FFS!? Friday post. FFS.
I spent last Thursday night harassing Miss6 to learn about mice, so she could wow the crowd with her assigned Show & Tell News topic last Friday.
#1Hubby bleeted something about helping, so I sat him and Miss6 down in front of the Google Gods while I made dinner. If I hadn't intervened, Miss6 would've been wowing the class with stories about how mice die, what animals they eat, and how many babies they have. FFS
Can you guess how popular I would've been with Miss6's teacher and the other parents if I'd sent Miss6 to school to talk about those shocking facts in a class full of 5 and 6 year olds? FFS
#1Hubby was removed from homework duty on his first attempt, so now I do dinner and homework because I'm MOFO SuperMama (able to cook and educate at the same time, capable of leaping lego buildings in one single bound, faster than a speeding projectile/texta/vomit - you get the picture). FFS.
Not only are mice incredibly boring, FFS, but it turns out I was a week early, and now I have to convince her to do it again today. FFS.
While focussing on her week early news item last week, I totally forgot to hand in her homework for the week. FFS.
School closed early on Friday. Crazy early. Before lunch time. FFS.
Same again on Monday. FFS.
I'm still living the Olympic Nightmare. FFS.
Miss3 was being super cute at swimming lessons, and so I had a ladylike chuckle (read: unflattering donkey-like guffaw/brey)...right at the exact moment another mother who was walking past me almost slipped on the wet floor. Other mother assumed I'd laughed at her, and shot me the death stare for the rest of the lesson. FFS.
But really, it was a total "two-for" in the words of my girl Jessica Simpson. I totally enjoyed the half-splits of the slippery Mumma as much as Miss3 bouncing around in the water.
In case you missed it, I posted an awesome Wine Giveaway on Wedneseday. Unfortunately, I forgot to include the witty images I had carefully trawled the internet to pilfer. FFS.
So here they are for you to enjoy completely out of context now:
I had to write a work article that referenced Justin Bieber. FFS.
It included watching a number of Bieber clips, and towards the end the subliminal brain-washing was clearly working, as I found him ever so slightly attractive and talented. FFS.
I had to learn how to spell Bieber. FFS.