Tuesday, 16 July 2013

Sports Day and other lunacy...

Last week, Mr G went with Ryan's class on their school trip to Greenwood Forest Park.   At the end of the trip, all the children went off to spend their money in the gift shop, and when they were all stood outside, he noticed one of the teachers was looking a bit worried.  A little boy in the group had wanted to buy a present for his mother, and had picked a fridge magnet for her.  The teacher hadn't thought anything of it until he pulled it out of the bag to show her once outside, and then she noticed the wording on it...

I love you Mummy...

I wonder what his Mum's face was like when he gave it to her?  At least she got a present, Ryan bought a tub of putty that makes fart noises.  At least I wasn't insulted though.

Today was Sports Day, another lovely sunny day here in Wales.  It makes a change for Sports Day to actually go ahead on the day and not be postponed - or even cancelled - because of the rain! 

Ryan still in a lot of pain after his continuing dental work, so he was a spectator this year.  Adam won the egg and spoon race and his face says it all, bless him.

Mr G has been on form this week.  Today's was probably the most random gaffe that has ever come out of his mouth.  We were in the car, rushing to get some shopping in between the sports day sessions, and as we approached the end of our road, he says...

Mr G:  I saw shall remain unnamed baby burglar yesterday.

Me:  WHAT????

Mr G:  Sunbathing, I meant, not babysitting.

Me:  You didn't say babysitting.  You said 'baby burglar'.

Mr G:  Did I?  What the hell does that mean?

Me:  Well, if you don't know honey... not much hope of me knowing, is there?

The other day, Mr G walked through from the kitchen into the living room to ask me...

Mr G:  Shell, where's your fanny cover, there's a fly in the kitchen.

The sad thing is, I knew what he meant.  I've been with him long enough.  What is a fanny cover, do I hear you ask?  Well,it's one of these...

Mr G went up to the shop the other day, supposedly to buy one of those car windshield covers.  This is what he came home with.

Now, far be it from me to be a bitch (he's just called me a bitch...) but.  For starters, he's 51.  And a half, if we're going to split hairs.  Secondly, he's had seven operations on his ankles, the last two being in the last two years.   Followed by a shoulder operation and wrist operation last November.   Not to mention extensive cardiac investigations and 15 days on a drip after contracting MRSA.  (His middle name is 'Lucky' by the way...)  One of the yoga type positions in the book, I told him if he could ever get into that position, I'd show my backside.  So today he's made a start on his training, motivating himself by watching 2 - 7 year olds run around a field with bean bags on their heads, and by purchasing Cod Liver Oil capsules from Poundland for his creaky joints.  God loves a tryer.  And I have to admit, so do I.   Life is never dull with him, anyway :-)   He's being fitted with his mouthguard tomorrow (lol) for his overbite so not only will I have two hours peace daily for the foreseeable, but possibly a photo opportunity too.   Silver linings everywhere...

He was ever so excited when I told him part of his Fathers Day present included something that was red and white and stripey, bless his heart, he thought he was getting the new Wigan Warriors home shirt. 



And on that note... goodnight :-)

M x


  1. It's ok, pay back time. When she keeps hinting about seeing Maroon 5 I took it as she wanted to change the decor in the living room so I will be nipping out to B&Q for a lovely shade of purple for the walls.

    1. Ooooooooooooh, right then Mr G, I retract that last 'I love you' comment. Maroon 5 AND Robin Thicke as support act. That's enough to feed my fantasies for several lifetimes over. But I didn't buy myself tickets, oh no. Shall I tell everyone why, hmmmm? Because you're going to watch One Direction with Caitlin. Because I am such a wonderful mother, who puts everyone's needs over my own... ALL THE TIME. And because you, my darling husband, are a boyband whore. First The Wanted, now One Direction. You should be ashamed of yourself, go to your room x

    2. And you're going into a home.


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