Here we are, a mere 4 days into 2013 and already we've had our yearly quota of bad luck and stuff to be pissed off about. The Husband and I didn't see New Year in - we were in bed. Asleep. Well, he was. I actually saw midnight with The Daughter who was awoken (sobbing and more than a bit furious) by the ridicuously loud fireworks. The Boychild has already been struck down by illness; I kind of knew that was coming though as we don't seem to be able to complete a fortnight without him puking or being dealt a dose of boy flu. During a water change of the fish tank, two of the remaining four Guppies lost their lives and The Husband rejoiced that the household was two time and money guzzling pets down. He had cause to celebrate once more this morning, as one of our guinea pigs - Margot Von Snugglesworth died. I got up, and en route to the bathroom I heard a strange noise, which turned out to be Margot breathing. The poor little bugger was lay on her side looking very poorly, so I picked her up and put her on my knee. Within a minute she had gone, almost like she was waiting for me. There was no love lost between our piggies, Margot and Custard, but I wasn't sure how Custard would take the loss of her cage-mate. Turns out she doesn't give a rats ass! You could almost see her stretch her legs out and smile at the thought of not having to share her celery! And speaking of heartless responses, The Daughter wasn't much better. She was so emotional just after Margot passed over to Guinea heaven - she couldn't stop sobbing and drew a picture of Margot, her hot salty tears dripping down onto the paper. I was comforting her and trying to reassure her that our little piggy was in a better place, when she turned the tear-tap off, looked at me and said "Will you ask Nanna if she'll take me somewhere nice today, to take my mind off Margot?". She's her fathers daughter alright!!
Margot was buried in the Pet Cemetary (our flower border), joining the various furry friends that have touched our lives. The Husband was flinching with every spadeful of earth, in case he uncovered a semi-degraded body part or five. Barely had the ground been flattened than one of our cats went out and laid a fresh turd on top. I like to think of it as a mark of respect rather than an act of mindless shatting. RIP Margot Von Snugglesworth ♥
It's not all been bad news though. I won £100 playing online bingo a couple of nights ago, which put a smile on my face. And sent me spiralling headfirst into a gambling addiction no doubt. I decided to go into town today and spend a bit of the money on treating myself to a haircut. I knew there was a reason I'd previously stopped going to the salon I used today, having landed myself the stylist with all the customer relations skills of a pissed off camel. I made the mistake of visibly wincing when she told me how much my trim was going to cost, so she got her own back by washing my hair in cold water. I was a bit too frightened to say anything, and meekly nodded as she chuntered on about my dry ends, even though I was inwardly cracking myself up with jokes about her orange arms and cankles. Off I went, £30 and a millimetre of hair lighter, to look round the sales. I was served in new Look by a strange teenage thing with half a shaved head who had obviously been forced to ask "Did yer find what yer were looking for today?". I resisted the urge to say "Well no actually, where do you keep your pressure cookers?" and paid for my bargainous cardigan. And I have just realised that I sound like I've entered middle age.
Despite the animal bereavement and a brief emotional blip yesterday, I thought the bad luck might have run it's course. I should have known better really. Tonight I put a pizza in the oven for the kids tea, and after ten minutes a strange smell filled the air. "What's that?" The Husband asked. "Burnt cheese probably" I replied. But when the oven went 'BINK!', and all the appliances in the house switched off, we knew there was a fault not caused by a stray bit of Monterey Jack. The bloody oven has broken; the oven that The Husband had bought less than a year ago, crowing that it was so cheap he could afford a new hob too! Let this be a lesson to you dear, as you tear the house apart looking for the receipt for the World's cheapest oven; cutbacks aren't always a good thing. And while we're on the subject of cutbacks, I'll be starting back at the gym tomorrow after 3 weeks doing nothing but almost constant eating. I have a dilemna though. We have so much festive filth left! Do I a) eat a bit of it every day until it's gone (June, probably) or b) spend the next week gorging myself stupid to get rid of it all before I begin my health kick? Decisions, decisions. Although, if we can't get a new oven sorted, the whole family will be living off turkish delight and Twiglets...
Happy new year everyone!