Sunday, 27 April 2014

Domestic bliss

As I posted a few months ago, since the McBaby's arrival, we've started hoovering about four to five times a day. That frequency rivals that of my tea-making and so it's probably not too surprising that the nozzle got blocked the other day. I put a pen, followed by a coathanger, into the nozzle to displace the blockage, only to lose them in there somewhere. Clonking the nozzle with great force onto the patio removed some of the weird fuzz that was in there, but it also meant that I have now split the hose.

I trudged back into the house and tried to find the hose online. Success! I got this email from "Partmaster" that contained this link:

"We are pleased to inform you that we have identified the item you require. To order or to view the latest stock availability and price information you should visit http://www.partmaster.co.uk/cgi-bin/product.pl?PID=3260704

Sorry, the product you have selected is unavailable on this site."

But didn't we buy a Dyson after Christmas the last time I broke the hoover? I found it in the cupboard, and switched it on to find that, unlike my life, it didn't suck. I called MrM who told me that it had stopped working last year 5 minutes after he got it out of the box and that we were now the only people in the UK with a Dyson that didn't work.

So we headed to town to look at hoovers, with me grumbling all the way there about how much I hate retail parks on Sundays. I may have grumbled so much that MrM nearly turned the car around, so our Plan B was to head to John Lewis. At least they sell cake as well as hoovers.

At the display, MrM told me I could have whichever one I wanted which was very kind of him. Perhaps he'll let me choose my own ironing board next. Anyway, I selected the Roomba which hoovers when you're out!

"No, not that one."

"You said choose one so I did."

Bravely an employee approached us and asked if we needed help.

"I'd like the Roomba but my 'husband' disagrees."

He advised us that they're great and do an average of four rooms before running out of steam and room in the cylinder. Perfect. We only have two rooms downstairs. But they don't go upstairs (or downstairs, I clarified) and are best for "busy families" which MrM and I couldn't ascertain was the right category for us.

"How about a Dyson?" he asked, to which I said that we had one but it didn't work. "That's very unusual," he said. "Have you called them?"

I assumed MrM had. For some reason he thought I had. Quite why I would have called them when I didn't know it wasn't working, I don't know, but I hadn't. So we sheepishly said we would call them before coming back to buy the Roomba/another hoover.

So after a silent car journey home, we got the Dyson out. In trying to find the phone number and model number, MrM dislodged a large piece of glass from the pipe before finding the McBaby's cricket stump in there. Apparently, hoovers don't like random bits of rubble inside them. If I'd known this, I wouldn't have contemplated a life with a Roomba to do my cleaning.

To misquote James' Sit Down: "If I hadn't seen such riches, I could live with a dirty floor".




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Silent Sunday 27.4.14

Tuesday, 22 April 2014

The allotment

A long Easter walk we'd planned got panned five minutes in when the McBaby managed to put his hands in some dog poo that the dog's owner didn't feel necessary to clear up. As well as Toxicariasis which could cause blindness, we were also faced with getting a toddler absolutely covered in foul smelling dog poo home and into the bath. Still furious with him, myself for not stopping him and the dog owner, MrM suggested a trip to the allotment might calm me down.

So we got digging and finally sowed some plants and seeds! We couldn't find the trowel anywhere, so used the McBaby's pink beach spade. He was most put out about this and wouldn't let us use it. We distracted him by enlisting his help to fetch water in the watering can and marking off his own garden within the allotment where he will be growing sunflowers and tomatoes.

Exciting!




Thursday, 17 April 2014

Happy Easter!

We're off to the Lambourn open day tomorrow, so in the meantime, check out the card and Easter basket the McBaby made for me. Apparently, there was some chocolate in the basket when it left the nursery. It did not make it home.









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Thursday, 10 April 2014

Did you enjoy the jam tart we made you?

Lovely guy at McBaby's nursery:

"Did you enjoy the jam tart we made you for mother's day?"


Me: "Er what jam tart?"


"The little monkey must have eaten it! We made you a jam tart on Friday". Pauses. "Did you not get the cornflake cakes or the biscuits last week or the sponge the week before either?"






Someone's got a sweet tooth, just like their mum!






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"Waty"

It was the armbands that gave me a clue.

Usually when the McBaby asks for "waty", it means he needs a drink of water. But on this occasion, he wanted to go swimming.

I had a look on the local leisure centre website to see if we could go swimming. After getting a blank page three times, I finally ascertained that there was something called "Aquazone" going on. I typed "aquazone" into the site's search box to see what that mean and it said "no results for your search."

So I put us into our swimming outfits and then put him in the car much to his annoyance. "Waty!" he shouted, as he marched down the street towards the leisure centre. When I eventually put him in the car (sadly, I had to take his armbands off to do this), and we arrived at the leisure centre, he couldn't contain his excitement and bounded up the reception desk.

"Sorry, it's swimming lessons," she said as a heartbroken McBaby peered through the glass at two people in the pool, cordoned off into their own compartment taking up less than a quarter of the pool. The majority of the pool was being unused, creating devastation as I explained to the McBaby that he couldn't go in.

I asked about the sister leisure centres in the two neighbouring towns. "Same story", she said. "Are there any other pools anywhere?" I asked. "Well, there's the private place down the road". Yes!

I called them from the car, via that directory enquiries number with the runners. They put me back through to the leisure centre we'd just come from. I tried again, finally getting through to the posh one who said it was adults only.

I tried the hotel where I used to work. No day passes. But would I be interested in joining?

Then I tried one in town that we'd considered joining some time ago as it's gleaming clean! Yes to day passes! And the toddler goes free! And I'd get a tour!

I headed there along the main road, with the McBaby now purple in the face shouting "WATY, WATY, WATY" for 20 minutes only to sense halfway there that someone's nappy needed changing. Let me say that again, someone's LAST swimming nappy. I stopped by the orange supermarket and as he was so upset, and as I'm so responsible, decided that I would run in and out. Except I joined the slowest checkout queue in the world. What seemed like an hour later, I ran back to the car and we went to the posh gym.

We pulled up, got tutted at by a posh lady on the way in (not sure if this is because I look foreign or because we didn't arrive in a 4x4 or if it was because I'd brought our swimming stuff in a Tesco carrier bag). And because of that, the McBaby REFUSED to go in. He lay down on the floor and shouted "NO!"

So we're back home, in our swimming suits. "Waty day."





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Wednesday, 9 April 2014

A tenth series.....





"The writing team behind "The Adventures of the McBaby" is pleased to announce a 10th series starting today. The sitcom about long-suffering MrM and his ridiculous sidekick MrsM was first shown in 2004.

Critics said it would never last after a patchy pilot episode but the show took off quickly when the characters shared a flat in the first series. In series three, MrsM moved to London and MrM moved to Margate; the pair later reunited in West Berkshire for series five.

Further episodes took place in France, Hong Kong, New York and Toronto, as well as Hungary (remember the episode where MrM turned out to be fluent in Hungarian?), India (where MrsM repeatedly got mistaken for a waitress by the tourists) and a cliffhanger in Norway and a race to get to work on the Monday morning before the Duke of Kent got there.

Writers set the last two series in West Berkshire with the addition of a new character. Originally, there were fears that the series might have jumped the shark with the addition of the "Scrappy Doo" type character but the McBaby has proved to have added to the laughs.

Head writer Unpreparedmum said: "Happy anniversary MrM!"