Thursday, December 23, 2010

i babysit too...

I’m starting to wonder if I’m one of those people that look incredibly gullible.  Perhaps, I have “Pick on me – I’m a sucker” tattooed in indelible ink on my forehead, visible only to con men and the likes.  Perhaps, on the other hand, I just look like a desperate mother (but all the time???!!!) that wants to get rid of her kids.

After I’ve taken Rainman and Too-fast-too-furious surfing, we have to stop and have snacks and hot chocolates to the value of a small holiday home. It’s a great little joint which has recently acquired a new waitress.  Now just to clarify, I have nothing against waitresses.  I too have waitressed.  Also, I have nothing against tattoos. I too have some. Same goes for piercings.

We pull up a perch. The new waitress comes over.  She launches right in.  ‘So, what do people do with their kids over New Year?’  Ah, I think to myself, she’s looking at me thinking “whoa, what a party animal, I'll bet she really wants to cut loose on New Year.’  Then I reconsider, having just remembered that I don’t look like a party animal at all.  I just look like a mother.  Mmm, perhaps she’s just making polite conversation (a.k.a I’d like a big fat tip for being chatty). 

‘Oh’, I say, ‘since we've had kids we kind of hang at home, have one or two beers, shoot the breeze, maybe cut some rug on the kitchen dance-floor’.  ‘Well’, she says, ‘I’m kind of over the whole drink-till-you-fall-down thing and thought I’d offer babysitting at my house for parents who’d like to go out and party.’ I nearly blurt out, “you have a house and not a caravan?” but catch myself just in time.

I’m trying to hide my “are-you-effing-insane  face” and am fighting the urge to say, ‘Ja, for sure and totally man.  I’m definitely going to leave my kid on New Years Eve with a broke, tattooed waitress, whom I hasten to add, is also a stranger. Not only that, but I’m gonna tell my mates to do it too, you bleeding eejit!’

Instead I say, ‘the tricky part might be when the intoxicated parents have to come and pick up their kids and see them to bed.  I don’t think Goodfellows are game for that kind of thing.’  I consider suggesting that it might, in fact, be more lucrative if she ran  “hangover sitting” for the morning after, but decide against it.  I’m also bewildered as to why she hasn’t clocked the part about me saying that we normally stay home.

I think it’s important to mention that at no stage has she bothered to engage her potential clients. The actual kids. Not even a “Hi guys, how was the surf? Cowabunga dude”. 

What’s more, I have to tell you, this isn’t the first time that this has happened to me.  When shortie Jnr. was a baby, I was walking down the street when a transvestite asked me for a cigarette.  After explaining that I didn’t smoke, s/he said that s/he’d be equally happy with some cash or some wine.  I explained that I didn’t have any of those either. Her/his parting shot (as though we were old family friends) was “I also do babysitting hey”. WTF!!! Do I look like I’d hand my baby over to you??!?!

I know you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but I think it’s fairly safe to judge them by their impossibly short skirt. And, just as a word of advice to all would-be babysitters - have you ever seen an airhostess that looks like a member of hells angels?  Nope. So if you want the job, for Gods sake dress the part and cover up those dang tattoos, just till you've got the job.  And please also remember, not being a total stranger normally counts.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

screw the two front teeth...

Christmas is looming and this year I’m just not in the mood. The whole dang year I wasn’t in the mood.

I know I’m going to sound like The Grinch, but really, the smell of burning plastic is not one of my favorites.  Especially as most of the purchasing that’s been going down is for really bloody boring, obligatory stuff that has been bought under extreme pressure. Did I hear organic-luxury-exfoliating soap on a rope? It would’ve be much more fun if the Kardashian family had lent me their credit cards because then I could buy things that people would actually get excited about …  a Ferrari for Mr. Professor Pants (I’ll look after it till he’s 18), a surf-holiday for Best Kisser (because unlike me he can actually surf), and a flame thrower for Oli (just for the hell of it). Come to think of it, Oli would probably quite like to own a tattoo parlour aswell. Heaven knows, the Kardashians don’t need any more shit. Truly.  

What really concerns me the most this year is what’s on my kid’s wish list to Santa.  Weapons.  This is not a very Christmassy theme I think.  I’ve already had to eat huge helpings of humble pie for saying (pre-kids, of course) that my kids would never eat sweets. Pwaaahhahahah. As if.  I’ve had to double that humble pie helping for saying “my kids will never own toy guns”.  Clearly, they must have the same relationship to weaponry as I have to carbs.  The minute you deny yourself, you just want it more. Out of principal. 

The no gun law stood unbroken for all of about 24 hours. I had to relent. The little buggers were fashioning dangerous looking guns (think rifles with bayonets – where did they even see those????) out of pieces of wood. Pointy kindling and such. Not very sanitary, especially if, say, it pokes in your brothers eye. Or breaks his skin and actually draws blood.

So, I tried the overkill approach and bought them an entire arsenal.  It worked. They very quickly tired of playing with their guns, except when friends who aren’t allowed guns came to play.  Then they played with them a lot. More than once I've had to literally wrestle the weapon away from a visiting kid because they became like Gollum  - huddled in a dark corner and calling the gun "my precioussssssss" and what have you. Frightening stuff, really.

Anyway, since Rainman’s recent fascination with James Bond (again with the inappropriateness… ) their romance with weapons – namely handguns are the fetish – has been rekindled.  I try to tell myself that someone has to be defenders of the law.  And has to work for MI5. And has to join the army (somewhere, just not here). Not all gun owners are gangsters. And not all gangsters have guns; they have other things with sharp ends. And I’ve decided that a fascination with knives would be much more dangerous. So, I’ll take my chances with a toy gun thanks.

P.s. An aside. Don’t try drinking lots of Espresso to help you through Christmas shopping.  I’ve tried. I can never go back to that mall now.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

hot and furry...

It’s not often that I upload image heavy blog entries (blinking SA bandwidth being what it is) but with Christmas round the corner I thought everyone deserved a treat.  I remembered an exciting book (gift ideas you see) that I once borrowed from my friend Heidi.  Now, I’ve heard the joy of giving is that much greater if you’ve put a lot of effort into the gift. Imagine the overwhelming giving-satisfaction if you’ve gone to the trouble of actually making something with your own bare hand? So, here are some stunning Christmas idea’s that I know will just blow your socks off.  To entice you to read further I’ll even give you the title of the book …. Wild Knitting. 

WTF!!  Knitting, so help me Christmas, has never, ever been a wild activity.

With all the bad publicity that furs get, PETA will be glad to know that the best big thing in warm-wear isn't mink at all.  No, no, it's armadillo. Crusty, you might be thinking. Ah ha, but not if it's knitted...

  This devastatingly sexy, knitted (strike 1) jumpsuit (strike 2) will be just the jolly thing to get everyone in the festive know, laughing, cheering, laughing... 

 For all those flat-dwellers out there who long for their own little patch of garden... A fully knitted garden! The bricks are especially practical.  No lugging heavy decor-paving around, no siree. No watering required either, just a quick hoover every now and then (plastic flowers optional).

And, if you're looking for something stylish and unique for a table setting... knitted fruit!

 Been wondering how you'll keep your fine form over the festive season? The solution lies before you...knitted ice-creams.  An added bonus is that it could quite possibly double up as a teeth-cleaning exercise (think floss and fuzzy type of toothbrush).

... no melting in the sun either...

What could be more fetching than a knitted bikini?  Not only that, but imagine ...
a) how well this weathers in the water; and 
b) how it must itch the living hell out of your private parts. As if beach sand wasn't enough.

When Emirates Airlines gets a hold of this image, by jove they will change their air hostess uniforms! These are made especially nice by the wonderful, romantic light that has made the images all furry.  No wait, that's a lint halo. Strike 1..Pastels.  Strike wing sleeves

It's not so much about the outfits as it is about the whole picture. Knitwear on the beach?  Must be Brighton. The stylist took an especially long time to style the lady on the right's hair. At a second glance, she must have taken equally as long on the other woman's hair. 

Is the man in your life an outdoorsy type? Show him you love him by knitting him a pastoral pully.  The ensamble would not be complete without the bobble hat to round off the theme.  Note the blue (sky) with white (clouds) and yellow pompom (sun). Take me to bed baby...  

For those out there who needed a closeup of the design...

Finding the perfect office Christmas party dress is always such a bind.  Look no further. Not only that, but if you look carefully you'll see the fake, knitted cigarette in her hand.  Getting in early on those New Years resolutions we are ... (NOTE: the foldover boob is not included in the pattern.)

Last, but by no means least, some very cunning fancy dress ideas for that New Year's eve party you always have to dicky yourself up for.  These are totally re-usable anytime, anywhere...You know, kike that 70's theme bridesmaid dress you'e been able to wear over and 
over and over again.