Someone wrote the most hilarious message ever in a birthday card today: hope you have a lovely birthday doing nice things. The thing is, I think they were being serious. Nice things? In this household? THE IRONY. And of ALL DAYS, my birthday had to fall on a Wednesday. CHEERS.
I was really hoping my birthday would go unnoticed by the family. This morning was usual – asked last minute to take Marie shopping this morning to get some more trading cards, and ended up having to go to the vets, WHILST collecting Juliette at the same time... But disaster struck when I returned home and somehow they’d discovered it was my birthday.
William had ‘attempted’ to prepare a big meal, and had bought a few things this morning, so I’m not going to start listing all the faults and problems with it. He asked if I liked fish and I stupidly said yes. Oh well, I won’t be lying when I tell him ‘NO’ next time! I’m now left clutching onto my life strings and hoping I’ll pull through after that... uncooked and very mixed-up meal. I am currently gasping for vegetables and feeling very ill.
This afternoon William said the cleaner was coming, and would be teaching me to cook meat. Er, thanks but no thanks. I already know how to cook meat – it’s not my fault he wants half a cow served up for dinner each night. Oh the highlight to my birthday. Being barked at by a stubborn, difficult incomprehensible cleaner. There is no way I am touching raw chicken. PARTICULARLY on my birthday. I’d even consider sitting through a matinee of Belle Amie and Katie Waissel and try not to cry or through banana skins at them.
No comments:
Post a Comment