It's Daylight Bloody Robbery....

I see you there sitting on the shelf, sitting with all the other “Imported” goods. Looking at me, imploring with me to pick you up, to roll you round in my hands, to take you home.

But I can’t... or rather I won't! It’s not that I can’t afford you; it’s just that I can’t bring myself to spend $4 on you knowing that in London you are a measly 68 pence!

So let’s do the maths, 68p converted at today’s rate would be only $1.30. So not only are you twice the price of the Kiwi equivalent you are 3 times are much as you are in England. So being the principled person that I am and more importantly of Scottish descent, that is simply why I will not be buying you. That is why I leave you sitting on the shelf every time I am in the supermarket.

Because its daylight BLOODY robbery!!

Oh, but you do taste so good. Funny thing is I never liked you until we met again in London. I remember trying you as a youngster, cooked in a billy over an open fire on a school camping trip and “Blech, disgusting, not eating that again!! But then my sister re-introduced us, one soggy Sunday morning along with Marks and Spencer Ultimate Mash..  Ah it was the perfect comfort food for a dodgy hangover.

Hmmm.....  Oh I do so miss having you for brunch on Sunday with my eggs... 

So perhaps you can be my little secret, hidden at the back of the pantry, hidden in amongst the other canned goods. Hidden, so Mr P and the boys don’t see you. They can have the less tasty Kiwi version; they would be none the wiser. I could wait until I am home alone to bring you out, cook you up and scoff you down. Mmmm, I know it’s not nice not to share, but too bad. I make the rules so I can break them...

But, No!!

But really, why not I ask myself? When we were in London I had no problem going to the NZ shop and spending £4 or £5 on a pack of biscuits or some chocolate. Surely this is the same?

No, no of course it isn’t!  Then I just wanted a slice of “home”, something tasty to remind me of what I was missing out on.  To remind me of my childhood.

No, you will not be coming home with me.  I simply cannot bring myself to spend $4 on a can of Baked Beans... 

But I may stop by next time I see you, just so we can have a moment together perhaps even a quick roll in my hands.....

Silent Sunday

Hey, Mr Fox.....

Dear Mr Fox

It’s over between us!  The honeymoon period of 4 ½ years is totally finished, it’s no more.  Yes, we used to think you cute and endearing, the boys gathering round the windows at dawn and dusk to watch you in the garden.  Hell I even used to leave the odd chicken carcass out for you, and how do you repay me?  By shitting on my lawn!  No, actually you crap wherever it takes your fancy, lawn, footpath, doorstep, hell you have even managed to crap on the boy’s slide a couple of times!

Now Mr Fox, don’t think I have turned anti-fox on you, I haven’t.  I have no problem with you living at the end of the garden, you just need to stop crapping everywhere.  Honestly I don’t want to have to do poo patrol every morning before the boys go out to play.  My boys are Kiwi kids they want to be able to run around outside in their barefoot without running through berry infested poo!

Hell, the liberal leftie bit of me even supported the hunting ban, stopping your country cousins from being torn apart by dogs.  So I feel the least you can do is to cut me some slack and stop using our garden as your own private loo!

So in closing Mr Fox, you can snooze on my lawn, tear the odd ball up but if you want to poo can you pop next door?

Yours

Frankie P  xx

PS..  Be warned Mr Fox, Mr P grew up hunting in the countryside so is a dab hand with a rifle..

My little but not so dirty secret......

Dear Frankie

I have a little secret to tell you, it’s not a world changing secret.  Hell it’s not even a “dirty little secret.  It’s not even that I love listening to the Bee Gees on a hot summer’s day.  Frankie, my dear, my secret is you!

Yes you, Frankie Parker, my little blog.  I can count on one hand the people who know about you.

Why have I told no one?  I am not sure perhaps it is because I want to keep you to myself for a little while more.  To see where we can go together and how you develop.  Let’s not run before we can walk as they say.  What if we stop getting on or even have a falling out?  Or is it just that I am not ready to admit to the world yet that I am a blogger.   After all, the written word is so much more powerful than the spoken word.  What if I offend someone close to me by some opinions I may have that differ to theirs?  Hell there is no way you are going anywhere near my Facebook page until I am well and ready for it.  And as for LinkedIn, well that is never going to happen!

Or is it simply that I don’t want people to know about you as it’s a private thing between me and you?  Where I can put my thoughts, ponderings and opinions down without beginning judged as I know you will understand.

It has been hard, very hard at times keeping you quiet.  There has been times where I do so what to mention some of the great blogs I have read or talk about a twitter conservation I have had. 

But no Frankie, I am not ready for that yet, so honey it looks like it is just you and me for a little bit more..

Hope you don’t mind?

Love

Me xx

The Elephant

Mummy?

Yes darling

Why were you and daddy talking loudly to each other?

It’s nothing for you to worry about.  We just can’t agree on a very important matter at the moment

Is it to do with me and Cameron?

No of course not, just me and your daddy being silly

Is it to do with the elephant?

Huh..  What do mean the elephant?

You know the one that you said is always in the room.  I can’t see it?

Oh honey that is just something that we grownups say.....

Why would you say it then if there isn’t an elephant in the room?  You know mummy I don’t think we could get an elephant in here?

Well that is just as well then as we won’t be having one in here

Oh……   So we won’t be getting an elephant?

No honey as I said it’s just something grownups say when there is a big problem they need to sort out and they can’t agree on it

Oh..

Why, what’s with the face?

Hmm, I told everyone at school that we were getting a elephant

Okay, and?

Well I told everyone they could come round and feed it

But we aren’t getting one so you will just need to tell them that they can’t

Hmmm does that mean I have told a lie?

No of course not

But you told me if I said things that wasn’t true then it was lying

Yes darling that is true but you didn’t lie

Mummy?

Yes darling

I don’t want an elephant anyway what would we do with all that poo?

Our Unconventional Pet

We have a new pet it seems.  He is not your usual pet.  He lives in the dark and is only allowed out by mummy and daddy. 

They take him out when we are asleep as we want to play with him all the time.  This makes mummy and daddy ever so angry as he is supposed to be playing with them.  They tell us when we are older we can play with him as much as we want.

He doesn’t eat much and is ever so tidy.

If we are lucky to be up when he is out we can’t wait to play with him.  We pat him, we stoke him.  We even pull his tail or lead him by his nose.

When it is time for him to go back to bed we give him a farewell hug.  And if he has been good we may even give him a kiss.

“Night night ‘enry”

Love F & C xx

Ill Fated love affair

It was the summer of 2010 and although I had seen you about and thought “yeah I could have that” nothing more had crossed my mind. But that summer it all changed. I knew that I wanted, no needed you, that my life would be complete with you. The more I saw you when I was out and about that desire for you grew more and more. I decided my husband need not know who or what you were.

Then a chance meeting on Marylebone High Street, I grabbed you and we disappeared into our own private room. We got close, I began to undress and then the realisation struck me...

Bollocks, Bollocks.... F**king Bollocks..!! You have skinny legs, I have chunky calves, surely this doesn’t mean that I am not meant to have you? How did I not see this before we got into the room? I can’t get you off, you are firmly stuck, I am panicking, doing the penguin walk, what am I to do? Then two becomes three as I struggle to take you off, I call my friend in to help. We tug and tug trying to be careful that you don’t rip; blood is drawn as we undo the zips to see if that helps. But it doesn’t.

Finally after what seems like hours, we emerge from the room, hot, sweaty and slightly embarrassed. Giggling, I get that knowing look from the other women in the shop. I have one last moment with you then I put you back knowing that we were never meant to be.

But you will always be in my thoughts x

On the Brink...

My little darlings

It is only day 3 of the Easter holidays and already you are driving me to the brink of despair.  Actually I would go so far as to say that I am tethering on the edge right now.  You must remember that this is all new for mummy as well.  Back in the good old days I would be at work and you would both be in nursery.  So while you are both tucked up nice and snugly in your beds I thought I would put a few pointers together for you both that we can discuss over breakfast:

1.      No means No!

2.      Nagging to have the iPad\laptop\telly will not work, see above.

3.      Mummy is always right

4.      The toilet is not a play area

5.      The bath is not a pirate ship, also if you can climb in you can climb out

6.      No means No!

7.      Do not play with the taps, especially the one that is marked Hot!

8.      Share, share and share.  Just remember what happened to Eeyore this morning (he ended   up in the oven!)

9.      If you want to go outside without socks, shoes or jackets on, so be it but you will be cold.  Remember mummy is always right

10.  Do not rip the wallpaper off the wall

11.  Holidays should be a happy time so no tantrums and tears are allowed

12.  Son No 2 - remember hitting or throwing a toy when told No is not allowed

13.  Finally remember No means No and Mummy is always right!

Love you both..

Your mummy xx

Battle Stations

We have been having a bit of a silent battle in the Parker household.  In terms of domestic discord it isn’t a major one but it is enough to start getting on my wick.  You see we always used to listen to the same radio station but now thanks to DAB radio that is slowly changing. 

Over the last year Radio 5 Live has slowly crept into my life, oh joy!  Now to be fair I do think Fighting Talk can be quite funny on a Saturday morning to listen to over coffee and the papers. But do I really need to listen to it a 6.30 when I am having a shower?  Well according to Mr P, I do as he is in the bathroom shaving so I have to listen to what he wants.  Okay, okay, I see his point but he has even changed our alarm to Radio 5 so no longer do I wake to the sound of music but to people droning on and on and if I am lucky a travel report.  Which let’s face it is no longer relevant to me anymore.  It’s enough to make you fall asleep which I inevitably do anyway..

So a typical day in the weekend is spent with me changing the station as I go into the family room and Mr P changing it back when I leave and vice versa..  This has worked well so far as it is done without any tension or sly remarks as we have kind of accepted that it is the way it is.  However Mr P has now taken this one step too far, it is now affecting the one and only sanctum which is left to me....  THE CAR! 

But the worse thing is that it isn’t necessary Radio 5 that may be on but a Pop station!!  The rock chick inside me cringes when the car comes on with the radio blasting out some hideous pop music which to be honest I have no idea who it is or what they are singing about.  All I know is that if they are in a girl band then they need to eat a few roast dinners.  Now I am not wholly against Pop music as after all the Pop stands for popular music and who doesn’t like a bit of Abba or Kylie after a few drinks.  But the car, the car, my car?  It is me who spends the majority of the week in the car taking the boys here and there; even Son No 1 now wants to listen to “daddy’s station”!  Give me good old guitar riffs any day I say..

So Mr P please do me a favour, I don’t mind the mirrors being changed or the seat being moved just don’t touch the BLOODY RADIO!!