Bollocked in Neon



GOD!! It wasn’t even 9 o clock yet and I managed to get merrily BOLLOCKED whilst pouting in an illegal place to park and in a neon dress. (Pink.) I swear down that in future I need to refrain from decorating my body, my love humps and ego in neon. It’s bad for me and I ALWAYS get into trouble. The last time I wore neon I got bitched at and the time before I was in a Wakefield club getting aggressively flung around a dance floor and fighting. Jesus.

Today I was stood on a private road at 7.54am, in a tight neon dress and black rubber wedged, bowed, Truffle shoes, a hand bag, a giant butterfly shaped nursery bag flung over my shoulder, a grumpy two year old who just so happened to have ventured out of my vagina a couple years ago and my silver Mercedes. (My ‘Mummy Motor’ as I call it, as it’s not a snazzy ‘young-free-single‘ sporty number, it’s more of a ‘I’m sensible, have 42 children and maybe a good job’ set of wheels. OR i come from rich parents who gifted to my husband and I last Christmas to encourage me to drive. You can tell that my Mother bought it for me simply because I really never chose anything sensible. I am PLEASE, I was in NEON at 7.54am. No decent person does that without reason.)

Parked my silver Mercedes, climbed out of my car, smiled and waved at another parent who was dropping her child off at nursery, adjusted my dress, wiggled to get Ruby out the car, flustered with all the bags and key organisation, realized Ruby was not going to play along nicely for the merry stroll into nursery and out of nowhere POPS a old blond lady with a pointy finger and an angry face. UGH!

Now, I always park in this particular spot for convenience. Keiran taught me to, as I’m not one to really be brave enough to commit to such Tom Foolery. However, after never getting caught and doing it almost every day, I figured that life would just go on and well the old woman (who i do see on occasion) will always frown as I arrive and I will always get away with illegally parking.

Today was the day (and because I was in neon) that she decided to make her move and BOLLOCK ME. Lol. I couldn’t really argue my case because right next to my parked car was a GIANT SIGN stating that people were not allowed to park in such a place and if they dared to a giant fine would be dragged out of their bank balance as punishment. Yet…it’s a lot more official than that. OOpsie.

She comes out and tells me off and states that there is truly no reason for me to park there and that I’m quite a nuisance etc…I know i’m in the wrong, so with my Wunna charm, warmly apologise, from the bottom of my fake heart πŸ™‚ and assure her that I would move my car immediately and that there would be no more illegal parking on her very PRIVATE road. She wanted a fight because after I did my smiley, neon, very well manicured answer..filled with love…she said, ‘Yes, I appreciate your apology however this is a PRIVATE road and that is not the point, I…’

All of a sudden the nursery nurses, who are wonderful human’s who care for our children arrive at work, get out of their cars and slowly peer on to see what is occurring…and instead of the blond oldie continuing her fight with me (because I’m being far too poshy- nicey pants for her and far too apologetic to have a good old, raggy fisticuffs with)…. she turns on THEM (hahaha) and begins to newly bollock the new faces on the private road. Pahaha. I think she blamed them for ENCOURAGING parents like myself to park on her private property. πŸ™‚ Jesus!

I do the honorable, neon thing and take FULL responsibility for my actions saying ‘It’s not their fault really, its my fault, i’ve just decided to park here…it’s my fault.’ She wasn’t having any of it. I must have said it a million times. The funny thing is the nursery carers are feisty (which I like, I don’t want walkovers looking after my child, I adore feisty woman who stand up for their tights…tights? I mean rights.) Anyway, they begin to tell her how wrong she is for accusing them of encouraging such behaviour….

It goes on a for a little bit, and more parents are now pulling up in grey Range Rovers and other fancy numbers, as we’re all getting bollocked…then Ruby decides that she is now going to walk into nursery ‘like a good girl’ and there you have it…that was that!

I enjoy that everyone seemed to have my back even though I was mightily in the wrong. I mean the Dad that pulled up after me even said, ‘Why would she even live there if she wants privacy. It’s by a busy school, a road and Β a nursery??’ I love that! The parents of the nursery want her to MOVE and relocate, just so we can conveniently and quite illegally park our posh cars for drop offs. We’re ACE!

I felt like ‘Gaby’ on Desperate Housewives on the episode where she has ‘Wanita’ school parking drama. So today on July 24th 2013, i’ve managed to get everyone done, everyone angry, the authorities reported to probably…and well all in neon and before 8am. πŸ™‚ Some people birth Kings (Well done Kate & Wills, the 3rd in line to the throne has ventured out of a very lovely vagina and become all ROYAL and’ future’… as of yesterday! Imagine birthing a KING, it makes the pain worth it) and well then there’s me…I park on private roads and get bollocked with two year olds and in neon, then bring everyone else into it by accident, out of my own poor judgement and the old blond finally managing to have the guts to yell at me. Life really is TOO SHORT. It’s not like she was going anywhere or that I was going to park there ALL DAY. I was doing a nursery run DROP OFF…and she was probably going to spend her day drinking cups of tea, listening to Mozart, and knitting posh tea cozies for Britain.

I do blame myself, but I could blame RUBES. We’re meant to be a TEAM here, not a’ get Mummy caught and done,’ bit of shindig. I need a quick, breezy, happy nursery walk in, so no ladies can ‘get me’ in the process.

The funny thing is, when we finally got into nursery, Alice…one of the other carers of our children (again hilarious, beautiful and lovely) said she had run over the lady’s recycling bin! Pahahah! I do enjoy Badsworth drama. People get cut in Hackney. Recycling bins get wheeled over in Badsworth.

Anyway, all is well, i’m interviewing, getting back to work, thoroughly enjoying my husband, (we’re really happy right now and i feel really quite lucky to have him, even though I accused him of not fancying me yesterday and I don’t want him to keep working away πŸ™‚ ) His van keys might go missing again tomorrow when he has to leave. πŸ™‚ (Oh..and he solved the key issue yesterday by hiring a man to come sort it out in 10 mins, cut him another key and take Β£180 off him.) I’ve noticed that if I just adore Keiran, he gets all happy and adores me right back. Simples. I only accused him of not fancying me because I know that he does. I’m sick like that. If i really thought he didn’t, i would never say out loud and instead manipulate him into fancying me. πŸ™‚

Life is good, we’re meant to be back to sunny today, so grab those back yard bikini’s.

Enjoy, love, live!

Hilarious, I’ve just gone up to Keiran, after moisturizing my bum between blog paragraphs to give him a cuddle. He smiled and moaned about his work load and how he wants more ‘him’ time- ‘fun’ time. I cuddled him, (arms around his neck, on the stairs) and said, ‘nooo, you mean time for ME. There’s no him time and my time, just US TIME, because we’re two halves of a whole, making one big bundle of love.’ He smirked at me with hearts in his eyes. (He loves all that and loves that i’m far more expressive now. Keiran’s quite couple-fest, so the more we can do together the better for him.) Β Then after mildly agreeing and after my large declaration of utter, ‘we are one’ love…just says, (in a baby voice) ‘WORK TIME,’ and goes back upstairs to the office. LOL. I’m THAT charming. (He even said that he’d turned my old blond lady bollocking into business and state that he would do her security and clamp me every morning. πŸ™‚ AS if, nice try. If that happened my fine would be coming out of HIS wallet.)




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