Straight into the business of FFS-ing this week....
I was too caught up watching the end of an episode of The Real Housewives of NYC that I'd missed, that I didn't check the clippers I was preparing to do Mstr3's head with. What was meant to be a #4 ended up as a #1.
My sweet little blonde haired, blue eyed Mstr3 now looks like a mini junkie. FFS.
I spent almost an hour Googling beef slow cooker recipes, as I wanted to try something a little different. I finally settled on a satay, courtesy of the Planning Queen.
Unfortunately the instructions did not specify "Yo, dumbass - you, over there - the one distracted by Twitter and Facebook and Pinterest. It's great that you've gone to all that effort to research a new recipe. You've made it your own, lovingly prepared it and whacked it all in the slow cooker....now how's about turning the slow cooker on at the power point?"
I only realised as I went to dish up, right at dinner o'clock. FFS.
We ended up using the remaining peanut butter and had sandwiches instead. And if you recall my last dinner fail - yes, once again I split open the Kiddy Omega3 fish oil tablets and mixed them in with the peanut butter so that dinner was officially full of vital brain food, so that my kids will grow grey matter far superior to my own, capable of remembering to check that the power is on before smugly congratulating themselves on having dinner done and dusted 6 hours before it is required....
Dinner is served
I frequently swear. I've tried really hard to stop using "shed words" around The Feral Threesome. I thought I was doing well, until....
Miss6 threatening Miss3 in the toy room the other morning:
"If you don't give me that Barbie right NOW, I will go POSTAL on you!"
Can only imagine how that one goes over in the school playground with the teachers listening in. FFS.
Miss3 to #1Hubby when denied the iPad:
"Chris, don't be a wonker. Just get it, okay?"
Said calmly. Complete with eye roll and hands on hips. She is the epitome of a mini-me. I was all kinds of proud, after pretending to be horrified. I will have to work on her speech, so that she can correctly pronounce wanker.
Mstr3 to Miss3 on her refusing to hand over the piece of banana she was chewing:
"Give it to me Liv! Give it to me you FLUCK!"
This time I'm concerned about Daycare, and any child who dares touch his beloved banana from the morning tea platter. Those fluckers....
Just quietly - I'm not sure if he was going for fuck, as in fuck you; or suck, as in you suck. Either way, another stellar representation of my parenting. FFS.
The little fluckers are totally ruining my
good public image. FFS.
|Swearing Fail: Proof that you don't really have your listening ears on when Mummy's talking|