We start today’s blog with a question and my rather detailed and ummmm………sarcastic answer.
This has been one of the mildest winters for the last 50 years and today, the 10th of January as I sit here in my underpants, it’s 12 degrees C outside. This time last year snow lay thick on the ground and it was minus 4 outside. The fact that we have had no snow means that many of my fellow Brits seem upset and are heading for a winter break to Austria, France and even Vail, Colorado for a spot of skiing. Well, I won’t be joining them because I’d rather have my colon cleansed with Tabasco sauce than ever set foot in a ski resort. Or anywhere, in fact, where there is a chance of snow.
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There are two things that have made me mad this past weekend. The first is how complicated washing your hands in a restaurant or hotel or ship is. Yes I know its public health and yes I know people who have just wiped away the remains of last night’s beef stew from their bottoms touch the faucet straight after, but I am sick of having to do three hours of Tai-Chi under the sodding faucet just to get the water to come on. The second thing that has been rolling my eyes is the word “detox.”
Normally I start a blog with some whimsical nonsense about my bottom or something similar but not today. I hate to have to sit here in my underpants and write this but I have to explain something. You see over the last few months the beards and I have had to start checking each question I answer to make sure that comments and questions are indeed written by the person they say they are. Bugger, I didn’t explain that very well, did I?
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So I took Breeze for his first walk this morning. Up until now he has been in the garden where he will sniff and think about taking a crap before deciding he doesn’t want one and of course the moment I let him indoors he drops a turd in front of the dishwasher which seems to be his favourite place to do a number two. So this morning in Baltic conditions I dragged my lilywhite arse out of bed and took Breeze for his first walk and this of course meant that I became a crap collector. Over the years I have enjoyed watching dog owners bending over to scoop up their dog’s poop with their hands; it always gave me a giggle. Funny isn’t it. Sports stars, movie stars, even President Obama I guess all have to kneel down with their inside out plastic bags to clean up after their dogs output and as I said, I always had a good laugh at them.
So how did you spend New Year’s Eve? Mine was very different to the ones I remember both on the ship of which we will talk later and certainly different to the ones I spent in my late teens with my best mate Alan. I remember one very well, I think it was 1987. I remember this one because I had just broken up with my girlfriend, Lorraine. I remember Lorraine very well because she was the only girl that didn’t vomit at the sheer sight of me thus she was my only proper girlfriend. It had been a wonderful rumpy pumpy-fueled relationship which had lasted a blissful three weeks but on Christmas Eve Lorraine came to her senses and dumped me.
There was bugger all on television last night so I spent the evening using Heidi’s Eye Pad to answer yet more questions on Facebook. Kye was fast asleep and so was Breeze. Kye was dreaming of Peppa Pig and Breeze was dreaming of ignoring the carefully laid out newspaper and instead taking a dump in my slipper. Yes, I wear slippers. So Heidi was flicking through the TV channels and ended up watching Fatal Attraction which is a prime example of what I hate most in movies…………..badly written and badly performed rumpy pumpy.
When my beautiful wife Heidi said choosing a puppy would be the easy part I really didn’t pay much attention. She is from a family who has had dogs all their lives while the only dog I have ever had was called Rachael – she was a spa therapist on the Jubilee which Heidi says doesn’t count as being a dog lover. And so here we are with our new German shepherd puppy and I can tell you that actually looking after it that makes looking after Kye when she was a newborn baby seem only slightly more difficult than the $100 question on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.
Cheers and best wishes for a wonderful Christmas and Hanukkah.
Some parents I know see Christmas as a chance to show off their child’s creative skills and have them making cute, homemade cards from sometime in mid July. And there are others who think that standing over a child with a glitter pen for three hours when they sell perfectly good v alue packs of cards at JC Penney is three hours wasted. Heidi has been unwell with a cold and last night gave me the job of sitting down with Kye and having her draw a snowman card for her teacher Mrs. Wilkinson. Well unfortunately Peppa the sodding Pig was on TV and when I suggested to Kye that she come and make a card with Dadda she basically told me to bugger off. OK, she’s two and a half years old so she didn’t actually tell me to bugger off but she did say “silly Dadda pig” which basically is the same thing. I knew then that when Heidi came down stairs from her nap that I would be in for a bollocking and Dad’s you may find yourself in the same predicament. But please don’t despair, do as I did. Simply tie your right hand behind your back and draw a rubbish snowman with your left hand. It’s amazingly authentic. Plus everyone will say what an incredible artist your kid is for a two year-old. Job done.
