Good afternoony my slimey little bits of joy! (My predictive text is a bastard! I don’t know why it keeps telling me that I’m spelling ‘afternoony’ wrong! How does HE know how I want to spell ‘afternoony!’ The only reason my I don’t trust him is simply because he keeps telling me that I’m spelling ‘WUNNA’ wrong. WUNNA is my fricking *cough* maiden *cough* NAME. I could spell it at 3! I can spell ‘Wunna’ with my eyes closed, a donkey trying to hump me and pissed up in a gin pool of naked males. I have actually spelt it wrong before…so maybe Mr.Predictive text is really the good guy? He’s obviously a man, as a chick wouldn’t put me through this much of a mind game and well it’s certainly not a glamour puss because she wouldn’t have time to correct the spelling of the ENTIRE world and substitute them with comedy words of apparent sense. Plus, she’d be too busy trying to upload half naked pictures of herself on Facebook for attention. :)#rantover #lifeisgood)
Okay, so..in the love zone, my husband and I are in lurve. ‘Lurve’ is the good kind where ‘true love’ gets dipped with fun and I don’t mean Dirty Berty fun, I mean ‘fun’ as in swirled in youth and playfulness. The good kind of love. We’re best friends and well this is the kind of love i think MOST couples have. I watch you all upload family pics or fun pics on your bits of social media and all I see is happiness, playfulness and love. Like Harriet this morning (a girl I’ve referred to as my raven haired beauty…I adore her family pics and simply because they ‘sonic boom’ you with ‘lurve.’ Not matter what her family goes through, they’re the pics that you remember as time dollies onward.
Keiran got back early after switiching his last shift to get home and rest. He is OVERLY warn out, to the point where seeing may be impossible. But he drove through the night to get back to his family simply because he couldn’t stand the work load anymore and needed his little Asians to comfort him and his lost soul..only to pull up, race to the door at 2am and get locked out my yours truly for a jolly 20 minutes in the rain. Yipppeee! 🙂 This time not on purpose. *Double grin.* Remember he lost his van keys..well he lost all other keys attached to it, so he had n house keys! (I really could’ve used that to my advantage!! SHIT! I hate lost opportunity!) He called my mobile over and over and over again. He knocked. He pondered. Then he called the house phone, which is a phone that never rings and his little kitten’s ears *popped* up out of bed with query eyes? She slowly stretched and wiped her sleepy eyes wondering what all the commotion was about? Ruby was asleep. Junior was fast on like a loggamuffin. (The beauty of having ethnic children. FYI/I’m allowed to make jokes of that sort.) Then she heard a weird ringing..an odd ringing that her ears had never heard before. She believed it was the smoke alarm and therefore scratched her tired head in puzzlement? Then it suddenly dawned on her that her husband could be home, so she raced to the window, saw a giant work van and with a ‘shit it’s raining’ raced downstairs in the dark, in neon ‘said i’d never wear it’ pyjama’s, with no contact lenses in and let him in out of the cold. 🙂 I’m good like that! My life has been so comfy-cosy that i’m on kitten mode. I’m filled with harmony. His life has been all stressy work load, so he’s filled with punches, cotton wool fuzz, headaches.
The end. 🙂
The next morning I went to Meadowhall to allow him to kip all day. He needed it and I needed to shop with my loin fruit.
Since then…life hasn’t been better. Our relationship has been cuddled with fun and we’ve looked at each other playfully which we haven’t been able to do in a long time due to sensitivity and hormones. We missed each other and when you can get back from Meadowhall with the family, sneek upstairs for a quite cuddle because you haven’t seen your hubby in a week and just lay on the bed giggled and imagining your fake funeral…you know you’re in love! I don’t know how we got talking about my imaginary funeral, but i think Keiran was saying that he didn’t want people to cry at his. (I don’t know why people say that, as it be honest they’d be really narked off if everyone was happy they were dead. 🙂 ) I immediately butted in with a ‘NO WAY!! I WANT TO SEE FLOODS OF FUCKING TEARS AT MINE. If everyone’s not crying, I’ll be so pissed off! If YOU’RE not crying, I’ll haunt you and you’ll know it’s me because I’ll have random bottles of champagne FLY across the living room towards you and you’ll look outside and your clothes will be throwing themselves out the upstairs window!!’
He pissed himself laughing, whilst we were still cuddling. Y’see some couples talk honeymoons and roses mid-cuddle…WE imagine my funeral and get kicks out of it. He replied with a ‘Whatever, I won’t even turn up and I’ll…’ then he BIT HIS TONGUE because he was about to say something really foolish like his imagination had taken to a place where he was frolicking about with some other girl, after I had pretend died to add to the humour of the story! He *paused,* reevaluated his joke and then said nothing! LEARNING FAST! That’s what I like to see, a SMART BOY, who knows his wife well! 🙂 See when men learn to just go along with the wife, it’s much better. I call it smart, he calls it ‘control.’ Girls are far cleverer than boys because if I was to think such a thing, you would never see it on my face, let alone me say it out loud, or have to *pause* in question. But he’s doing well. I adore him for it. Good boy! *Control-control-control! LOL.
Anyway, he actual reply was much worse…he should’ve gone with the ‘new girl’ joke. This is what he came up with, ‘I’d be flipping singing…CHIN-CHIN THE WITCH IS DEAD…’ Firstly, what kinda Welsh school did HE go to for that song to have the words ‘Chin-Chin’ in? It’s ‘DING-DONG.’ Then I had to re-listen and playback in my head to make sure she didn’t say ‘CHINK CHINK,’ HAHAHA. I could’ve pulled the race card then…but he didn’t. *Sigh.* So instead, after flipping through all my reaction options, i went with, ‘A WITCH! I’M NOT A FLIPPING WITCH!’
We just pissed ourselves laughing. How dare he call me a WITCH! I mean BITCH is better than WITCH!! Then the track he chose for my imaginary funeral was that dance song that goes, ‘Now you’re gooooone, I realized my love for you was sooo strong…‘ but even that was too cheery for me. I’m pretend DEAD for crying out loud. I don’t want dance music and happy bopping, even if the words are loving-ish? I want tears and distress and to have finally made my mark with great impact on the lives of others that it gets telly coverage. I’m not a WITCH! I can’t die now and simply because the imaginary party is just not cutting it. He’d be crying like a pooey, nappied baby if I died. I mean, he could’t marry me without a good old weep. (And they were HAPPY TEARS, before you all start!) Just as I wrote that paragragh, the weather went to thunder. I love that my blog controls the weather.
All day we’ve been playfully joshing with one another, even when we were suited and booted this morning for meetings…..well his meeting. I enjoy it when we look posh or important because everyone thinks we’re up ourselves. Men undressed me with their Pontefract eyes. Women sneeky peeked at my husband with eyes of ‘wa-woo’wee.’ (HE’S MINE!! BACK OFF!) Then we grabbed jacket potatoes and ventured back home.
I’ve napped. Today BOTH kiddies are at nursery as Junior is having his beginners bonding sessions. NAPPING is a wonderful thing. I always use to say it was only for the oldies and that I absolutely despised nappers because it was FUCKING lazy. Now that I am an oldie and a mum of two…(I asked a gay friend how ‘that’ happened simply just to say it..and well his reply was ‘you were a slag, put out and ended up pregant.‘ OMG! Pahahaha! I adore it!) But yes, I love a good nap now. It’s actually a shame that I got prodded up by Keiran with a ‘Babe…I want noodles. Make me noodles. You’re meant to be my wife.’ I did what any good wife would do and pretended to be asleep. ‘Babe, i know you’re pretending!!!’ 🙂 I sort of then pretended to ‘come around’ and as soon as my eyes locked on to his, with a random comedy face and his eyes popping out of his head he said ‘NOODLES.’ Conversation ended. I made them…and for ‘thanks’ he tried to stick his finger in my fluey for fun. THAT’S NOT FUN after children. It’s only fun when you haven’t got the boy already and you have to pretend to be naughty. The whole way through the cooking of the bastard noodles, all I could hear was him singing away upstairs to joyous pop tracks. (‘I’m up all night to get lucky…i’m up all night to get lucky…’) I had his singing as my background…LUCKY ME…with stove noise and a boiling kettle fuzz. Super Noodles aren’t that bad. I kinda wish I invented them now. Domestic Queen. Don’t Hate! I’m not a bad cook. Last night he had Wagamama Pad Thai. Cooking to me, is just buying it ready made. Why have me slave over the stove with my big hair and lippy, when I can simply swipe it and have it in front of you and cooked to a faaaar better level in moments??? Keep to your strengths. My is shopping! (He’s telling someone off upstairs on the phone. It must be rubbish working for Keiran, doing something wrong and having him lecture you. He does it like he’s your disappointed dad. Well unless you’re a girl, then he’ just forgives you like it never even happened. If you’re me, he gets stressed because I shout back.)
Anyway, I was going to tell you all about my fan inbox messages…but I think you’ve had enough for today. I’ll do that one tomorrow. I need a cuppa tea/wine.
Love you, x
Oh and I’m also on INSTAGRAM now. (I know, I’m a late to that party!) So follow me on @chrissiewunna (I’m just getting used to it, so in the end it’ll be fun. I love it.)
If you’re not following me…this is what you’re missing…