"Grumpy", "A bit ranty", "No good without caffeine".
Just a few of the ways I have been described in the past. Another way:
"Yeah, I can't see her having children".
This bothers me less than you might imagine, given that I'm one of the least maternal people EVER. Me, Furious P and TabTwin#1 discuss our lack of maternal instincts on a regular basis. Usually over a glass or 3 of wine. In a restaurant. Without having to rush home for the babysitter. Ha.
Furious P is well-known for her intolerance towards Yummy Mummies who feed their children houmous ('HOOOMUSS!!'), and don't get her started on the Babyccino. TabTwin#1 says she's too clumsy and doesn't want to give up smoking yet. And me? Too selfish and far too intolerant of noisy things that poo innapropriately and keep irregular hours (which is probably why I don't like the Ignorant Kiwi if I'm honest).
I'd be a terrible mother. I'd forget to feed it or something, or leave it on the bus. When I was Squidgy Niece-sitting last week I let her watch Monsters Inc twice in a row cos it meant that she would sit down and eat her toast. That I'd put chocolate spread on. Pixar and Nutella? Bad Auntie Badger.
That's not to say I don't adore my friends' children. They're lovely, on the whole. But I REALLY have a problem with the kids that live near me, and their too-lenient parents. Little kneehigh terrorists weaving about the pavement on their scooters, with mummy squawking into her mobile at the au-pair about giving Buttercup and Orlando organic weetabix. SW15 is rapidly becoming the new Nappy Valley, rather than the Antipodean playground I moved into 6 years ago.
To all the Yummy Mummies and Daddies out there, over-populate the planet if you must, but please, keep your progeny away from me, preferably on a leash. And you probably shouldn't ask me to babysit either. Especially if you don't want me putting a cork up its arse so I won't have to change its nappy.
Just a few of the ways I have been described in the past. Another way:
"Yeah, I can't see her having children".
This bothers me less than you might imagine, given that I'm one of the least maternal people EVER. Me, Furious P and TabTwin#1 discuss our lack of maternal instincts on a regular basis. Usually over a glass or 3 of wine. In a restaurant. Without having to rush home for the babysitter. Ha.
Furious P is well-known for her intolerance towards Yummy Mummies who feed their children houmous ('HOOOMUSS!!'), and don't get her started on the Babyccino. TabTwin#1 says she's too clumsy and doesn't want to give up smoking yet. And me? Too selfish and far too intolerant of noisy things that poo innapropriately and keep irregular hours (which is probably why I don't like the Ignorant Kiwi if I'm honest).
I'd be a terrible mother. I'd forget to feed it or something, or leave it on the bus. When I was Squidgy Niece-sitting last week I let her watch Monsters Inc twice in a row cos it meant that she would sit down and eat her toast. That I'd put chocolate spread on. Pixar and Nutella? Bad Auntie Badger.
That's not to say I don't adore my friends' children. They're lovely, on the whole. But I REALLY have a problem with the kids that live near me, and their too-lenient parents. Little kneehigh terrorists weaving about the pavement on their scooters, with mummy squawking into her mobile at the au-pair about giving Buttercup and Orlando organic weetabix. SW15 is rapidly becoming the new Nappy Valley, rather than the Antipodean playground I moved into 6 years ago.
To all the Yummy Mummies and Daddies out there, over-populate the planet if you must, but please, keep your progeny away from me, preferably on a leash. And you probably shouldn't ask me to babysit either. Especially if you don't want me putting a cork up its arse so I won't have to change its nappy.
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