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Amanda’s Action Kids – when enthusiasm turns to obsession

15 Nov

So it’s getting a bit embarrassing. We’ve been going to Action Kids for nearly three years now. So long in fact that I swear my daughter Ellie thinks she now actually works with Amanda, rather than attends the class.

It all began with “please may I be your helper” on the races – which also saw me subsquently chanting “Hard bodies, Tight bodies” all over Chiswick’s green spaces – to many a bemused look from passers by.

Then there was the odd go on the microphone – singing the alphabet and saying hippopotamus being particular highlights.

But now it’s definitely a full blown crush. We even choose what to wear on a Monday morning to show Amanda – today it was her party dress from last year which has somehow morphed in her brain into a ‘ballet dress’ but previously it’s been her Buzz Lightyear outfit, her Thomas the Tank engine costume and recently at Halloween she wanted to go as a skeleton but I’m afraid that’s where i drew the line.

Luckily Amanda’s very tolerant of the whole thing and indulges her with special comments and the like.  But I guess if you’re gonna have a stalker, this is the kind to have. A little three year old running after you thinking you’re just the coolest thing in the world. There are plenty of worse ways to start a Monday morning.

From lamb to mutton

13 Nov

I’ve had two children in the last four years, so the last time I was a regular size 12 I was on the early side of 30. At that stage, I was young enough to get away with mini skirts, knee high boots and skimpy tops with impunity.

Not having invested much in my wardrobe for the last half decade I found myself trying on stuff in my wardrobe from way back then for a night out in Fulham tonight, and realised I have suddenly changed from the lamb I once was into mutton. Instead of making me feel sexy, my Saturday night gear now makes me feel like I should be standing on a street corner, waiting for business. It’s not just that there are lumps and bumps in all the wrong places, it’s that there’s just not enough cloth.

From now on I shall live by the addage, less flesh is more.

Boots the chemist – allegedly

11 Nov

So why won’t they sell me anything then?  

That’ s quite simply the last time I go in there for baby drugs EVER. The latest is this time for Canestan for nappy rash (Josh’s not mine clearly). The twirp behind the counter starts interrogating me again as to who I’m going to use it on, what age etc. He then refuses to sell me it on basis you have to be sixteen to buy canestan – 

What on Earth?  on the box it says for thrush and nappy rash – how many sixteen year olds do you know that suffer nappy rash – oh so irritating and that’s just Boots, not the nappy rash.

I shall be using Busby’s in Grove Park from now on.

twitter – the beauty of being a s’leb

10 Nov

The great Giles Coren – has 70 odd followers and is followed by 35,000 +. He talks about  ” shitting followers like a typhus victim in a laxative factory” and gets away with it. I mention baby josh has a squitty tummy and snot coming out the wrong end and people are up in arms – not funny apparently and way too much information.

Oh well, we live and learn.

Moral of the story: get critical mass of people who find you funny before talking about bottom stuff