This blog contains the ramblings of one crazy mummy. All thoughts and opinions expressed are my own. If it offends you feel free not to read it. You will often find moans, whinges, lists of my digiscrapping purchases and even the occasional freebie. I accept no responsibility at all for any purchases that result from reading my blog lol.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Take a deep breath and count 1,2,3
Would anyone like to explain to me how a 5 year old can be more mature than an almost 30 year old? maybe someone hit them with one of those body swapping machines and they each have the other's personality (yes I know wishful thinking). I guess I should take comfort from the fact that whoever Lukas chooses to have to spend his life with, will receive a lovely mannered person that can tidy up after themselves and doesn't act like a spoiled brat like my husband. I could quite happily smack his mother one for the way he is. If she hadn't let him be an egotistical ass for nearly 30 years I wouldn't have to put up with his crap. Maybe it would have helped if I explained why I am annoyed at him today. He spends every second that he is in the house picking fights with Lukas. For example this evening there was a meltdown on both sides over the PlayStation 2, they both wanted to play it (did I mention in this house we have 2 PS2? one is Mark's the other belongs to Conor) ever the peacemaker I remind them that we have enough for them both to play it. They still managed to have another argument over who got the "big" one. One is the original old style the other is the smaller, lighter new style. When they finally stopped rowing about that they moved onto the whinging, whining and moaning over Lukas's Nintendo DS, followed by a row over the television, followed by a row over the mess in Lukas's bedroom with Mark taking on the role of a dictator ordering Lukas to "put everything away where it belongs" bloody hypocrite he never ever puts anything where it belongs. I can't stand his do as I say not as I do attitude. *sigh* answers on a postcard why I married him and/or why I put up with his crap?
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