Meet the Parents

Last Saturday I reached another relationship milestone, possibly more important than a first trip to Ikea.

Meeting the family of your significant other is surprisingly nerve racking. Would they like me? Was I dressed appropriately? Would I say something stupid? Would they disapprove of me being Australian? And more importantly, would the boy decided halfway through that actually it wasn’t going to work?
My fears of course were unfounded, the family, were in fact lovely and normal, and if the conversation was at any time slow it wasn’t awkward.

One problem that may become an issue though is that I just couldn’t keep up with them. Whether it is just this family, or all Northerners, but by midnight I had well and truly had my quota of food and drink and would have liked to have retired quietly to bed. However, my bed for the night was Mr W’s sister’s couch, which at the time was occupied by a giant Rottweiler called Duke.

Despite feeling incredibly rude, I could not help myself and began to snooze quietly, somewhat hidden behind the boy to save face. Alas, I do fear that this may have lost me the all important seal of approval, but as Mr W said, “this time next year you’ll be able to keep up”.

Here’s hoping so!

Why I Love My Dog

As I mentioned recently my parents acquired a lovely lovely doggie last week. 

There are many reasons why I love my dog, but the main reason is:  The pressure is now off for me to get married and produce grandchildren. 

My mother and father have a new child to play with and look after and dote on.  One that is far more affectionate that I ever was. 

So I am very pleased that not only do I have someone to keep me company when I am home alone, I do not have the stress of Ma asking me when I am going to give her a granddaughter.

Well done Gypsy.

Home alone

My Ma & Dad are currently away on vacation visiting family in Melbourne.  This pleases me greatly because as whilst I love them very much, this whole living together business is a strain on us all.

My problem is, I got home from work yesterday, and was so excited to have the place to myself that I had donuts for dinner, didn’t make my lunch for work, drank too much wine and watched crap TV I didn’t even want to watch.  And now the kitchen is already a mess.  All in approximately 15 hours. 

Am because in that time I could have been doing something productive like writing, or doing the washing. 

And now I have two days worth of crappy blogs and a shortage practical knickers, and am therefore having to wear lacy fire-engine red French Knickers with diamante trim to work.  I’m going to have a wedgy all day.