Monday, 29 August 2011

So in all fairness, these guys are f****d, before they even start.


Me and my Esmie Rose on her 3rd Birthday, tint she too gorgeous?!


Chicken nuggets, was what I prepared for my kids tea tonight. I dutifully coat the breasts in egg and flour dunk them enthusiastically after. I often do this with fish, but they do not eat huge quantities of meat, so when I announced it was ‘chicken nuggets’ for tea tonight, the sniggers that ensued I was puzzled by. As it happens, this is actually our word for boys’ bits, but the other choices for me have crude overtones, awful words, just really awful, so rude...Not that the words for girls'  bits are any better, I am not just being sexist. So nuggets, it is…Anyway, they then after laughing hysterically for what seemed like hours, me sussing why, them then gawping when I tell them I expect them to gobble them up. ‘Oh but muuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhmmmm, not chickens’ nuggets?’. So I still have no idea whether they know that a ‘nugget’ is not just necessarily another word for b******s..
The Minnie Mouse cake I made *phew* and I lived to tell the tail...(get it?)
Well, as you all know, we had Esmie Rose’s 3rd birthday this week. The evenings are usually spent in a whirlwind of kids to bed, hovering, tidying, last load of washing, mopping *ahhhhhh  mopping*, folding, washing up odd pans and wtf does not EVERYTHING go in the dishwasher? I realise I am now (1 year on from being a first time PROUD dishwasher owner) becoming spoiled, but the egg pans are surely the WORST things in the world to wash up. I get sinky heart feeling every time I see one, scrambles being the worst, my god, I could seriously go on for hours about egg pans, but for fairly obvious reasons, I shan’t. So, egg pans, why was I talking about egg pans? *rereads* oh, OK, dishwashers not taking everything, shame. Then sitting down, putting the UFC fighting on for Alex and writing my blog. Which I do around 9/10 ish. So the wrapping of presents and making a Minnie Mouse cake was not leaving me with ‘happy’ feelings. We managed it however, then balloon blowing was remembered at midnight ish, and I nearly lost my husband to ‘blowing up balloons for the 6th birthday/Christmas/Easter event time this year, at midnight, again, can not take this any longer, that’s it I have now actually lost it’ death. It takes some blowing, he was honourable in his efforts. I did take pity when he nearly vomited from over-exertion…I only made him do 10 more…
Esmie looks 'overwhelmed' with her Minnie Mouse cake...
The next day was Esmie Rose’s birthday! Our friends came over with their 15-month-old son, and plus our 4, already 5 kids was plenty. Plus Buster, our nephew, 5 adults, nice equality for once! She had a brilliant afternoon, we had her cake outside and the big giant ostrich flap mad chickens were in their prison! We were onto a winner all day, they are nearly all too fat to carry their own flaps, they cannot get their feet off the ground, despite the flapping, errr, stop eating all the worms then…We all sang ‘happy birthday’ in English, then French. Well, I say we sang ‘happy birthday’ in English, with our French friends, and in France as a rule, we sing  ‘Appy bersdayz tooo yoooooos’. You see the ‘h’ sound does not exist, neither does the ‘th’ sound, so in all fairness, these guys are f****d, before they even start. So our version was the ‘appy berzdayz’ version, but Esmie got the gist.


I must go and see to the 2nd round of dinner, us ‘growed ups’ didn’t eat with the kids, so I am about to do the second sitting. But just so as you know, I know who you are the 2 people who found my blog by searching ‘ big bazungas’…
True story that too.

Right, I’m off, see you tomorrow,

Tamsyn x *slips off to grow big bazungas*

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