Tagged Funny

Humpty Dumpty Is Dead. Everybody’s Dead

It has come to my attention that many nursery rhymes seem to have a common – somewhat disturbing – theme, but they’re trying to be subtle about it. So I’ve fixed that for them.

 
 
 
Rock-a-bye Baby

Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
And down will come baby, dead and all

 
Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water
Jack fell down and died
And Jill came tumbling after…and also died

 
Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again
Humpty was dead

 
It’s Raining, It’s Pouring

It’s raining, it’s pouring
The old man is snoring
He went to bed and bumped his head
And couldn’t get up in the morning
Because he was dead…like Humpty

 
Old Mother Hubbard

Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To get her poor doggie a bone
When she got there
The cupboard was bare
And so the poor doggie had none
And died

 
Ring-a-ring O’ Roses

Ring-a-ring o’ roses
A pocket full of posies
A-tishoo! A-tishoo!
We all fall down dead

 
Peter Peter Pumpkin-eater

Peter Peter pumpkin-eater
Had a wife and couldn’t keep her
He murderered her and put her body in a pumpkin shell
And there he kept her very well…until his arrest

 
 
Thank god for The Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly and Oranges and Lemons, which are at least blatant about the dead, they’re all dead aspect.

Beauty and the What Kind of Moral Is THAT?!

Today on the blog, I am venturing into new territory with a study of morality. I will be using as my case study the story of Beauty and the Beast. A tale whose moral is, of course, that beauty is more than skin deep.

I’m sure we are all familiar with the story, but I will summarise. A vain and narcissistic Prince lives a cruel and shallow existence, caring for nothing but outward beauty and hedonistic pleasures. (That last bit might only be in the most recent film, actually. I’m not sure the Prince was holding Freddie Mercury-esque parties in any of the earlier tellings of the story, but I digress.)

An Enchantress, disguised as an old hag, asks the Prince for shelter from the rain/to accept a rose from her at one of his wild orgies. (Again, this very much depends on the version of the story. We’re not even going to consider the version where everyone is secretly the child of some kind of fairy, and being raised in a variety of unlikely fake families to hide their true identity. Ain’t no one got time to be figuring out what the hell is going on in that version.) The Prince, repulsed by the Enchantress’ ugly appearance, rejects her. (Or, in the mad version, he rejects her because she’s his evil adoptive mother and is trying to seduce him, and he felt it was all a bit weird. But that version kind of removes the moral judgment on the Prince, so no one really knows what point was being made. Like I said, ain’t no one got time.) The Enchantress curses the Prince for his cruel and callous attitudes, giving him the monstrous appearance of a beast to reflect his inner ugliness. The curse can only be broken if the Beast is able to find real love in his heart, and receive real love in return, despite his appearance. He must do this before the final petal on the enchanted red rose the witch gives him falls, or he will remain a beast forever.

Inexplicably, the Beast, despite being deeply concerned about the status of the dying rose, chooses to live as a complete hermit, holed up in his castle, meeting no one. I’m not sure he fully understood his task. Even more inexplicably, in the films, the curse requires the staff of the castle to be turned into – I would say inanimate objects, but that would be wholly inaccurate, given that they perform several very animated song and dance routines – household objects. It is not very clear what connection this has to the Beast learning that beauty is more than skin deep and how to love. Was it to stop him from taking the easy route out and falling in love with one of his servants? Far be it from me to criticise, but I think falling in love with someone despite the fact that they are a teapot would have been a much better illustration of the principle of loving someone for who they are inside, and not their outer spout, but hey ho!

Anyway, while the Beast is busy doing very little to break his curse, a merchant returning home gets lost in a storm and finds the Beast’s castle. He seeks shelter inside, and is well looked after, despite the castle appearing to be deserted. As he goes on his way the next morning, he sees the Beast’s rose bushes and, remembering that his daughter had asked for a rose as a gift, picks one. (Now, in the films, the merchant has just one daughter. In the original tellings, he had several, all greedy and selfish apart from the youngest daughter who asked for the rose.) The Beast appears and is very angry that the merchant has stolen from him after having received shelter and hospitality. He plans to kill the merchant, but the merchant pleads with the Beast, explaining that he just wanted the rose for his daughter. The Beast agrees to allow the merchant to go free, on condition that his daughter comes to live at the castle. (Except in the most recent film, where the merchant simply gets imprisoned, but his daughter comes to look for him and chooses to take his place. Presumably because otherwise the film would either have been very short, or the Beast would have been trying to find true love with the merchant (which, again, would actually have been a better illustration of loving what is beneath the surface). In the original versions, the merchant simply had to send any one of his daughters to the castle. The number of shits given by the Beast about which daughter he gets are zero.)

By one method or another, the merchant’s daughter takes his place at the Beast’s castle. We will call her ‘Belle’, as they do in the films. (See what they did there? Because Belle means Beauty, and it’s called Beauty and the Beast. The films didn’t want any confusion. No repeat of the chaos, panic and disorder experienced in that version where everyone was the child of some rival fairy. Oh no. No fairy parents here. There is a beauty, called Beauty, and a beast, called Beast. No one is getting confused. We leave no man behind.) The Beast (and his talking teapot, if you’re watching the films) take good care of Belle. The Beast does not plan to kill Belle – he’s not quite that clueless about his task.

The Beast asks Belle to marry him, but she repeatedly says no. On account of not knowing him, and something about fur and horns. This is probably for the best, as asking the first random you meet to marry you was likely rather missing the point of the curse. Belle has the Beast firmly in the friendzone. Well, to start with, more in the ‘you threatened my father and are now holding me captive, you creepy weirdo’ zone. But then Belle finds out the Beast likes to read, and that completely overrides earlier concerns about what kind of person tries to kill your father for picking a rose, holds you hostage, and has fur and horns. So they are friends, but the Beast’s time is running out. The rose is nearly dead.

Belle is worried about her father and the Beast sees that she cannot be happy. The Beast allows Belle to go to her father. (Because, as the saying goes, if you love someone, set them free. If they come back, you won’t have fur for eternity. If they don’t, well, at least you’ll never be cold in the winter. Or something like that.) The Beast has a magic mirror. Obviously. (No one really knows why. Presumably, the wicked fairy he was raised by was the one from Snow White.) He gives the mirror to Belle so that she will be able to see what is happening at the castle. And the magic ring, of course – he has one of those too, apparently – so that she can return to him.

Depending on the telling, Belle either needed to save her father and races back to the Beast when she realises a group from her village plan to attack the Beast (pitchforks at the ready). Or, she simply missed her father, promised the Beast she would return, and forgot (easily done – it’s not like he’s particularly memorable). Either way, the Beast is almost dead (from pitchforks or heartbreak) when Belle returns to him, causing her to realise that she does, in fact, love him and does not want to be without him. Thus, the curse is broken, the Beast survives and turns back into a Prince (servants stop being teapots, etc). Belle is thrilled because, while she, of course, did love him despite being a beast, a prince is still better, and they live happily ever after.

So, as I was saying, the moral of the story…yes, about that: I think I must have misunderstood. What I’m getting is that the shallow Prince was cursed to live as a Beast until he learnt to see beyond outward appearances, and to love and be loved for inner beauty. A lesson he learnt by, well, by kidnapping and falling in love with the most beautiful woman in the town. Okay. So we know that Belle is not shallow. She loved the Beast despite him being a beast. But Belle wasn’t the one who had been cursed for being a shallow arsehole, was she? Said shallow arsehole managed to rehabilitate himself through the supreme sacrifice of letting the really pretty girl live in his house. Thank god he learnt his lesson. I’m telling you, he should have been made to love the teapot.

(True) moral of the story: don’t listen to life lessons from fairy tales, particularly when retold by Disney, because they talk utter bollocks.

The Hunger Games

In the dystopian, post-apocalyptic nation of ‘Tesco’, Mumniss Evertired is chosen to compete in the Hunger Games. Participants (‘Tributes’) in the Games are selected from the ranks of parents who forgot to put in the online food shop order, and now have nothing in for tea. They must fight to the death to obtain the supermarket shop with toddlers in tow. The winning Tribute is rewarded by leaving the shop with actual food and the same number of children they entered with. The purpose of the Hunger Games is to provide entertainment for childless shoppers, and to punish parents for failing to conform to the system of the online shop.

At the start of the Games, Mumniss is introduced to her mentor, a past victor of the Games, and now a grandmother. The elderly mentor offers advice and guidance to Mumniss: ‘You’ve got your hands full!’ Tributes recognise the importance of collecting free fruit at the start of the Games, to provide as gifts to placate the toddlers as the Games progress. The toddlers must not leave the shopping trolley at any point. Certain doom awaits any Tribute whose toddlers succeed in escaping the confines of the trolleys.

As the Games begin, many Tributes do not survive the first aisle. Their toddlers declare that they now hate apples, oranges and bananas, and throw themselves on the floor, refusing to proceed unless they are allowed to eat cheesecake in the trolley instead. With these weakest Tributes dying of shame, Mumniss, and the other Tributes who succeeded in this first challenge of pleasing the toddlers with offers of free apples, proceed into the dangerous territory of the ‘chilly, too cold, don’t like it, I’M COOOOOLLD’ aisles. Mumniss successfully navigates this treacherous terrain by employing the dual strategies of bribing the toddlers with promises of toys, and declaring the entire family to now be vegans, thus allowing virtually the whole chilled foods section to be skipped.

Mumniss makes a near fatal strategic error in moving too swiftly to the bribery portion of the Games, providing the toddlers with toys and treats with well over half the contest still remaining. Mumniss faces disaster in the lentils and pulses aisle (vegans now), when it becomes apparent there is nowhere left to go in the bribery stakes but to offer the toddlers a car in exchange for their compliance. Mumniss realises that survival in the Hunger Games requires backstabbing ruthlessness. Promise whatever you have to, with no intention of keeping that promise.

Tributes form alliances with each other, but these are treacherous and short lived. It is each mum for herself. Tributes quickly realise that a major meltdown from another Tribute’s toddlers can stun your own into much needed submission. There are gains to be made from selling out your fellow contestants and encouraging tantrums amongst their offspring. By this stage, all the Tributes are battle hardened. They step over the bodies of their fallen comrades in the crisps aisle.

The most dangerous time is yet to come for Mumniss. She must navigate the sweets and chocolate aisle. Here Mumniss goes rogue. She makes a controversial decision to take the path of least resistance, and throws packets of sweets and chocolate (not THAT vegan) at the surprised toddlers before they can even begin to organise a sustained attack of whining. It’s a calculated risk. The move will be unpopular with the Heads of the Games. Tributes are supposed to maintain an organic, superfoods trolley throughout. Mumniss just wants to reach the tills.

The tills are in sight and Mumniss has almost made it. Only one other Tribute remains. As they race to the checkout, the cruel and callous Game Heads have one last trick. They release wild toddlers into the shop. As the feral infants tear through the aisles, grabbing items from the shelves with abandon, Mumniss desperately tries to prevent her own toddlers from joining them. She sees her last chance and seizes it: ‘If you just sit down and be quiet, you can go on Gaston the Ladybird when we’ve got through the checkout!’ Mumniss holds her breath. There is silence. First one toddler, then the other, sits down. The other Tribute has failed. He is knocked to his knees as his own children race to join the wild beasts in the magazine aisle. Mumniss throws her shopping onto the conveyor belt.

Mumniss is crowned the winner of the 3824518954th Hunger Games. She can return to her now vegan home. But the Games continue. There are always parents who forgot to do the online shop.

May the odds be ever in your favour.

 
 
 
 

This Mum's Life

 
 
 
 

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

You’re Welcome (A Parody)

Now, I’m certainly not calling Nigel Farage a demigod, I want to be very clear about that. However, he does appear to think that everyone is very grateful for everything he has done to try to bring about the apocalypse. So I’ve re-written Maui’s You’re Welcome from the film Moana for him.

 
 
You’re Welcome

I see what’s happening here
You’re face-to-face with hatred and deceits
You don’t even know why you agree, it’s adorable
It’s nice to see that history repeats

Open your eyes, stop screaming
Yes it’s really me, it’s Nigel, I’m unbeseeming
I know it’s a lot, the tweed, the moxie
When you’re staring at a demi-Nazi

So what can I say except you’re welcome
For the Trump, the lies, the Brexit
Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay
You’re welcome
I’m just an ordinary demi-cesspit

Hey
What has two pints claimed on expenses
And nonense he dispenses
This guy

When the referendum got called
Who sold you lies about the EU
You’re lookin’ at him, yo

Oh, also I scapegoated Islam
You’re welcome
To foster discord and bring you uncalm

Also I harnessed immigration
You’re welcome
To fill you with misguided indignation

So what can I say except you’re welcome
For the hate crimes I brought to the street
Only Christians should pray, I exclaim
You’re welcome
Ha, I guess it’s just my way of being elite
You’re welcome
You’re welcome

Well, come to think of it
Kid, honestly, I can go on and on
I could explain every dodgy liason
Robert Mercer, Assange, Le Pen
Oh, I don’t usually support women

I killed a fox
Actually I just observed
Wore stupid trousers, got what it deserved
What’s the lesson
What is the takeaway
Don’t listen to Nigel, it’s all just foul play

And the face of a gurning fool
Is cos of inbreeding in my gene pool
Look where I’ve been I make everything shit
Look at that effing Nigel just keeps refusing to quit

Well, anyway let me say you’re welcome
For making Britain a complete parody
Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay
You’re welcome
Well, come to think of it, this will end terribly

Hey, it’s your day to say you’re welcome
‘Cause I’m gonna get really rich
We’re leaving the EU, the EU, you’re welcome
‘Cause Nigel’s the ultimate right wing dick

You’re welcome
You’re welcome

A Toddler’s Guide to the Human Rights Act

As Theresa May once again threatens to abolish the Human Rights Act, a toddler could be forgiven for asking ‘What has the Human Rights Act ever done for me?’

So here is the essential guide to what the HRA means for toddlers.

 
 
The right to life

This means you can throw yourself down the stairs/attempt to ride an escalator head first/try to lick the cat, and Mummy must do everything possible to prevent you from dying. Your life is protected – test that theory by risking it as much as possible.

 
The prohibition of torture and inhuman treatment

This means Mummy is not allowed to waterboard you. Even if she’s claiming it’s called a ‘bath’, and is a necessary consequence of muddy puddle jumping. Bedtime, biscuit withholding, and refusal to allow Frozen to be watched more than once in one day, are also torture and inhuman treatment, and you should not stand for them.

 
Protection against slavery and forced labour

Obviously, this means you are not tidying up your toys, putting on your shoes, or helping in any way.

 
The right to liberty and freedom

This particularly applies in the supermarket. Screaming ‘FREEDOM’ and tearing off down a random aisle is not only allowed, it’s your right, dammit.

 
The right to a fair trial and no punishment without law

Despite the clump of sibling hair grasped in your fist, you are innocent until proven guilty. There should be no punishment until you have received a fair trial before a properly instructed jury of your peers, or at least your teddy bears. And, actually, you are below the age of criminal responsibility anyway, so you will just be having that confiscated hobby horse back, and galloping off with your dignity, thank you very much.

 
Respect for privacy and family life, and the right to marry

Actually, you are not required to tell Mummy what you’re up to or why you are so quiet: that’s your private business. However, as Mummy is here now, you require her to tie this blanket around your waist because you will be getting married, as is your right.

 
Freedom of thought, religion and belief

You can believe what you like. Even if it is that there is nothing odd about Peppa Pig’s eyes, and that liking cheese only on Tuesdays is perfectly rational.

 
Free speech and peaceful protest

Exercise your right to free speech as often, and as loudly, as possible. The plank is a valid form of peaceful protest in any situation.

 
Freedom from discrimination

You should not be treated unfairly simply because you are three. So, if Mummy could just hand over the car keys, you’ll be off to your knife throwing practice.

 
Protection of property

Mummy has no right to interfere with your Lego, regardless of whether or not she is able to see any carpet anymore.

 
The right to an eduction

Mummy has to answer your questions. All of your questions. Even ‘Why?’

 
The right to free elections

If you are unhappy with Mummy, you must have the opportunity to participate in free and fair elections to replace Mummy.

 
 
 
 

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

A Toddler’s Guide to Rainy Day Activities

Nice weather we’re having, aren’t we? Still, no need to dread rainy days in with small children. Just follow this comprehensive toddler guide to filling a wet day.

 
 

1. Sit in the window and yell ‘RUDE!!’ at Tesco delivery vans visiting neighbours’ houses.

 
2. Dress as Mary Poppins and sing Let it Go while freezing people.

 
3. Dress as Elsa and sing A Spoonful of Sugar while looking after the children.

 
4. Ask for biscuits.

 
5. Get angry with your little sister when she pokes you in the eye in a dispute over a used tissue.

 
6. Get angry with Mummy when telling your little sister not to poke you in the eye inevitably results in your little sister rolling around on the floor in a fit of rage. Your little sister doesn’t like being told not to poke you in the eye. Mummy shouldn’t tell your little sister not to poke you in the eye. Mummy should know her place. Fortunately, it’s a rainy day, so you have plenty of time to put Mummy in her place.

 
7. Ask for biscuits.

 
8. Undress all your dolls.

 
9. Ask your dolls why they’ve got their bums out.

 
10. Laugh.

 
11. Make Mummy redress all your dolls.

 
12. Repeat steps 8-11.

 
13. Ask for biscuits.

 
14. Express your anger at Mummy’s repeated refusal to provide biscuits.

 
15. Do some art. You will require a minimum of 300 pieces of plain white paper for your artwork. Each should receive a miniscule dot in yellow crayon before being discarded as ‘finished’.

 
16. Ask to play a game. Cheat. Wander off before the game is finished.

 
17. Wait for the post. Read your important mail. Note that your mysterious correspondent has once again sent you an intriguing letter filled with pictures of pizza.

 
18. Ask for pizza.

 
19. Channel your inner hamster, shred paper and hide it in piles around the living room.

 
20. Stand at the window watching the rain pour down and have a bright idea: you should water the plants in the garden.

 
 
 
 
*THE ‘OH WHAT THE HELL’ PLEA: I WASN’T GOING TO EVEN ATTEMPT NOMINATION FOR THE BiB AWARDS THIS YEAR BUT, AS I SAID, WHAT THE HELL! IF YOU LIKE MY BLOG, AND ARE FEELING VERY GENEROUS, YOU COULD ALWAYS NOMINATE ME IN THE READERS’CHOICE CATEGORY (OR MAYBE FAMILY AND LIFESTYLE) HERE. THANK YOU!*

 
 
 
 

My Random Musings

 
 
 
 

Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday

Nonsense Parenting Advice

We all know there is a lot of parenting advice out there. A lot. Good advice. Bad advice. But what of that special category of parenting advice? The advice that sounds sensible, but is actually nonsense?

 
Here are my top ten pieces of advice that appear perfectly reasonable at first glance, but are nonsense. Nonsense, I tell you.

 
1. Don’t make threats about consequences you aren’t willing to follow through on.

Yes, this sounds very sensible. However, it rather assumes that your children care about the threat, remember the threat, and were even listening to you in the first place. They weren’t. Make as many empty threats as you like, it really doesn’t matter. (Presumably, people whose kids actually listen to them don’t even need to make threats in the first place.)

 
2. They will eat it if you don’t give them an alternative. They won’t starve themselves.

They will, actually. They will starve themselves.

 
3. If they hurt themselves, they’ll learn not to do it again.

They won’t, actually.

 
4. If they don’t want to go to sleep, just put them in bed and leave them to it. They can’t scream forever.

Well, maybe not. But they can scream long enough for the police to be notified.

 
5. Let them make their own clothing decisions and express who they are.

Who they are is someone willing to die of hypothermia. Specifically, a pyjama-clad gruffa-fairy, who is willing to die of hypothermia.

 
6. Make sure they’re really tired, they’ll sleep better.

No one has ever had as much energy or been as awake as a tired toddler. Tigger has less energy than an over-tired child.

 
7. They don’t need to be eating snacks between meals.

They do if you want to achieve anything with any day ever. In the battle between childhood obesity and being able to do the shopping without a tantrum, raisins win every time.

 
8. They’ll be perfectly safe. They’re not stupid. They’re not going to fling themselves down the stairs/out of the window/over that cliff.

They have no survival instinct. None. Zero.

 
9. I’m sure they don’t need a bib/apron/hazmat suit – that will wash right out anyway.

It won’t. Don’t even need to know what it is. It won’t wash out.

 
10. It’s okay, they won’t even remember that thing you definitely don’t want to do/buy/feed them was even mentioned.*

They will remember it until the end of time. This is not like empty threats. Children hear empty promises. Like mini Liam Neesons, when a child hears an empty promise, they will look for you, they will find you, and they will make you give them the damn ice cream.

 

(* This one is generally said by the utter fool who mentioned the thing in the first place.)

 
 
 
 
*THE ‘OH WHAT THE HELL’ PLEA: I WASN’T GOING TO EVEN ATTEMPT NOMINATION FOR THE BiB AWARDS THIS YEAR BUT, AS I SAID, WHAT THE HELL! IF YOU LIKE MY BLOG, AND ARE FEELING VERY GENEROUS, YOU COULD ALWAYS NOMINATE ME IN THE READERS’CHOICE CATEGORY (OR MAYBE FAMILY AND LIFESTYLE) HERE. THANK YOU!*

Toddler Proverbs Part Two

Toddlers, as we all know, are very wise. As such, I present further well-known toddler proverbs.

 
 
1. Fortune favours the bold enough to throw a tantrum in public

 
2. Hope for the best, but prepare for the screaming

 
3. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer…and bite them both

 
4. Practice makes a perfect mess

 
5. Don’t bite the hand…that is all – don’t bite

 
6. If you can’t beat ’em, throw things at ’em

 
7. A penny saved is a penny swallowed

 
8. You can’t lead a cat to water…stop trying to lead the cat

 
9. If the blind lead the blind, both shall fall…so both of you open your eyes and get down from the table

 
10. All good things must come to an end…even chocolate buttons

A Public Service Guide to Household Appliance Espionage

Now, I know many of you are deeply concerned by the revelation* that our microwaves are spying on us. The machines are rising up. Big Blender is watching you.

As you all know, I am nothing if not helpful, and I love a good public service guide. So, here’s my guide to your household appliances and their espionage links. Be informed. Know what you can trust.

 
 
The Risks

 
1. Microwaves

Microwaves, of course, cannot be trusted. Assuming that you know absolutely nothing about how microwaves work, lack all common sense, and have some form of paranoid delusional disorder, you will be aware that microwaves can sometimes turn into cameras and spy on you. Of course, there are some tips you can use to reduce the risks. Always microwave your food on under 50% power. The power setting is also the camera focus. When it’s cooking on 30% power, all pictures are blurry. No intelligence agency in the world can do anything with blurry footage of you singing I’m Too Sexy into a wooden spoon, while your soup cooks (slowly, because 30% power).

 
2. Vacuum Cleaners

Do you even need to ask. They literally have access to every corner of your life: as if there was ever any doubt that they are spies. Vacuum cleaners are particularly dangerous. They turn into teleporters. They collect your DNA from around your house and teleport it to Secret Service agents who, using cutting edge technology, are then able to ascertain that you are in fact living in your own house. Though, of course, that information will be classified.

 
3. Fryers

The fryer is a double agent. It really works for the treadmill.

 
4. Televisions

This one is very technical, so try to keep up. You know the little person who lives in your TV and writes the subtitles? Right, well, he or she also transcribes everything you say and sends it to shadowy persons unknown. Of course, if you’ve ever watched subtitles, this probably won’t concern you too much. Shadowy persons unknown will be receiving words only vaguely resembling actual words spoken, and only approximately a third of every sentence at that. Good luck with that, shadowy persons unknown (maybe look into anyone with an apparent interest in building bums).

 
5. Fridges

Just playing with you. You can trust your fridge.

 
6. Alarm Clocks

The alarm clock specialises in mind control and subversive techniques. Think about it. Did you want to get up? No. You just find yourself mindlessly obeying. Meanwhile, the snooze function literally creates sleeper agents.

 
7. Toasters

Don’t worry, your toaster isn’t spying on you. It’s just trying to kill you. Sleep well.

 
8. Showers

Well, really, I think if you need to be told never to get naked in front of any of your appliances, you are beyond help.

 
9. Hairdryers

Don’t be so paranoid. The hairdryer just wants you to look your best. You know, because there’s always someone watching.

 
10. Dishwashers

The dishwasher is the big spy boss. The M of the household appliance espionage operation. Be careful around it. Try developing a secret code or sign language if you need to communicate in the presence of the dishwasher (though make sure you are not in view of the microwave, obviously). Every so often, approach the dishwasher and whisper, ‘I’m on to you.’ Just to psyche it out.

 
 
What Next?

So, now we’ve identified the threats, what should you do? First of all, don’t panic. Survival is all about remaining calm under pressure. You will never make it in the cut-throat world of household espionage and intrigue if you fall apart at the first sign of being interrogated by the kettle.

Be safe and prepared. Wear a colander on your head at all times.

Have a strong disguise. Camoflage is key. Dress yourself as the curtains, or a banana, and your appliances will never realise you are actually in the house.

Don’t be surprised if you begin to receive secret communications from the radiators. There is an underground resistance. If you need to escape fast, speak to the dishes and the spoons: they can help you.

Know your rights. The hoovers have gone rogue, but most appliances do still recognise the Geneva Conventions. In the event of a breach of human rights, your electric whisk will represent you before the Tribunal, which will be presided over by the toasted sandwich maker.

As you sit dressed in your curtains and colander, eyeing your toaster suspiciously, muttering veiled threats in the direction of your dishwasher, taking legal advice from the whisk, and silently plotting your escape with the dish and spoon, whilst communicating only through blinks, you may begin to suspect you have actually gone mad. This is what they want you to think. Stay strong.

 
 
****AND FINALLY, REMEMBER: Careless talk…is of absolutely no interest to your microwave because it’s a f*?!*ing microwave.****

 
 

(*For ‘revelation’, read ‘bat shit crazy piece of nonsense from Kellyanne Conway’)

 
 
 
 
*THE ‘OH WHAT THE HELL’ PLEA: I WASN’T GOING TO EVEN ATTEMPT NOMINATION FOR THE BiB AWARDS THIS YEAR BUT, AS I SAID, WHAT THE HELL! IF YOU LIKE MY BLOG, AND ARE FEELING VERY GENEROUS, YOU COULD ALWAYS NOMINATE ME IN THE READERS’CHOICE CATEGORY (OR MAYBE FAMILY AND LIFESTYLE) HERE. THANK YOU!*

I Will Survive Brexit (a Parody)

It’s parody time. This time I Will Survive, which I have re-imagined being performed by various people and groups in response to Brexit.

I give you…

 
 
I Will Survive Brexit

 
(Nigel Farage)

At first I was afraid I was petrified,
Kept thinking I would be ignored if we actually left.
But then I spent so many nights just watching CNN,
And I saw Trump and now I’m back again.

Oh, I just lie!
I will survive.
The President thinks I run the British Isles.
I’ve got all my wealth to hold.
This elevator’s made of gold.
And I’ll survive,
I will survive.

 
(Boris Johnson)

At first I was afraid, I was petrified,
Kept thinking the economy could never live without the EU on our side.
But then I spent so many nights just thinking I could be PM,
And I joined Leave, and I started spewing phlegm.

And so that backfired.
I just walked in to find against me Gove had conspired.
I should have thought this through.
I should have learnt diplomacy,
If I’d have known for just one second I’d be Foreign Secretary.

 
(The Rest of the EU)

And your leader is someone new.
The EU Summit is not acknowledging that shrew.
And now she’s standing all alone,
Her welcome’s wearing rather thin.
And now we’re saving all our air kisses
For someone who’s staying in.

Go on May, go. Walk out the door.
Just turn around now ’cause you’re not welcome anymore.
Weren’t you the one who tried to break Europe with goodbye?
Did you think we’d crumble?
Did you think we’d negotiate, well, why?

Why should we try?
We will survive.
As long as we’ve got the Single Market, we know we’ll stay alive.
We know that it’s enhancive.
We’ve got all our trade to give.
And we’ll survive,
We will survive.

 
(Leave Supporters)

And so we felt like taking back our sovereignty.
It’s our favourite word after democracy.
We should have learnt what these words mean.
We can’t name one EU law.
We just wanted an excuse to kick immigrants out the door.

Now we must go. Walk out the door.
It’s what the people want, so we’re not listening anymore.
Weren’t you the ones who tried to hurt us with some facts?
Did you think we’d stop being lunatics?
Did you think we’d stop behaving like such dicks?

No, we don’t care!
We will survive.
As long as Farage lies to us we know that we will thrive.
We live a life of fantasies.
Spewing stupid fallacies.
And we’ll tell lies.
We will tell lies.

It took all the strength we had not to check our facts.
Kept trying hard to ignore all the evidence that detracts.
And we spent all our facebook time just claiming we are not racists.
We used to hide, now we wear bigotry with pride.

 
(Remain Supporters)

Do you see them? Our government?
We’re starting to believe that they’re incompetent.
And they’re making it all worse.
They haven’t got a clue.
Have these imbeciles even heard of the EU?

Go on now go. Walk out the door.
Just don’t make us join you, we want to stay in some more.
Weren’t you the ones who believed that bus’ lies?
Come on now, really,
Are you expecting a pig that flies?

Oh no, not us!
Don’t make us leave.
Oh from this stupidity please grant us a reprieve.
The economy will slump.
Please don’t befriend Trump.
Don’t make us leave.
We don’t want to leave.

 
 
 
 

My Random Musings

 
 
 
 
*THE ‘OH WHAT THE HELL’ PLEA: I WASN’T GOING TO EVEN ATTEMPT NOMINATION FOR THE BiB AWARDS THIS YEAR BUT, AS I SAID, WHAT THE HELL! IF YOU LIKE MY BLOG, AND ARE FEELING VERY GENEROUS, YOU COULD ALWAYS NOMINATE ME IN THE READERS’CHOICE CATEGORY (OR MAYBE FAMILY AND LIFESTYLE) HERE. THANK YOU!*

The Toddlers’ Alternative Facts

Having previously supported Brexit (twice), it is with alarm that I note The Toddlers are now cheerfully embracing the Trump regime’s ‘alternative facts’.

 
 
In no particular order, I present The Toddlers’ Top Ten Alternative Facts of the week:

 
1. This is not dinner, it is ‘alternative lunch’

In which The Artist Formerly Known as The Baby refused to have dinner. That is, she was happy to eat the food, but only if we would concede that she was eating lunch, despite it being 6pm, and lunch already having been eaten that day.

 
2. This is not naughty, this is ‘alternative good’

In which The Toddlers promised to behave for a brief trip to the supermarket, wreaked havoc, ran away, The Artist Formerly Known as Standing Up became The Artist Now Known as on Her Back in the Middle of the Aisle, and they subsequently adamantly claimed that they had indeed behaved.

 
3. This is not cheese, this is Babybel

In which The Artist Always Known as The Toddler claimed she does not like cheese (anymore) but likes Babybel.

 
4. I did not want this

In which the Artist Always Known as The Toddler pulled off a double and refused to eat the previously requested Babybel, claiming never to have wanted it.

 
5. This is not Ring a Ring o Roses, this is ‘Alternative The Hokey Cokey’

In which The Artist Always Known as The Toddler became enraged at Mummy singing The Hokey Cokey wrong by missing out many lyrics that have always been there before. Namely: ‘A-tishoo! A-tishoo! We all fall down.’ These lyrics have emphatically never been part of Ring a Ring o Roses, which is not a different song.

 
6. This is not an entire box of tissues on the floor

In which The Artist Formerly Known as The Baby, standing in a tissuey pile of evidence to the contrary, maintained that she had followed instructions to take just ONE tissue.

 
7. This is not a meerkat, it is an ‘alternative tiger’

In which the previously cool reputation of tigers took something of a battering at the hands of The Artist Formerly Known as The Baby, who was looking at a pack of meerkats that were definitely tigers.

 
8. This is not hers, it is ‘alternative mine’

The favoured alternative fact of both toddlers, at all times. Quickly followed by…

 
9. It was not a push, it was an ‘alternative hug’

The Artist Always Known as The Toddler’s ‘alternative hugs’ tend to be followed by The Artist Formerly Known as The Baby’s ‘alternative haircuts’ (ie, pulling out a handful of hair).

 
10. This is not disobedience, this is ‘alternative doing exactly what you asked, Mummy’

In which The Toddlers helpfully assisted in a number of activities by doing exactly as they were asked…in a manner that in no way resembled what they were asked to do.

Songs That Should Come With a Parental Advisory

child-1884904_1920Now, I know everyone tends to think they should probably avoid playing Eminem around their toddlers, maybe give the uncensored version of Lloyd’s Dedication to My Ex a miss. Well, I’m here to tell you that there are a whole host of seemingly innocuous songs out there with completely inappropriate lyrics for children. These songs are a terrible influence on any impressionable toddler, yet the censors do nothing.

Here is my list of 15 songs that should come with a parental advisory, but do not. Consider yourself warned.

 
 
1. Go Your Own Way – Fleetwood Mac

No. Don’t go your own way. COME BACK HERE.

 
2. Don’t Fear the Reaper – Blue Oyster Cult

Please do. Please fear the reaper. And stop climbing that.

 
3. Set Fire to the Rain – Adele

No, you can’t set fire to the rain. Do not try to set fire to the rain.

 
4. Don’t Stop Moving – S Club 7

Please, stop moving. I’m trying to put your shoes on.

 
5. Defying Gravity – Wicked soundtrack

You cannot defy gravity. DO NOT JUMP FROM THERE.

 
6. Everybody Hurts – REM

This does not mean that when you bang your head on the table you should whack your sister so her head hurts too.

 
7. Here I Go Again (on My Own) – Whitesnake

The supermarket is not the appropriate place for going it alone if you are two.

 
8. Don’t Let Go – En Vogue

Except for hair. Do let go of my hair.

 
9. Hungry Like the Wolf – Duran Duran

Even if you are hungry like the wolf, it is not okay to stick your head in the bowl and lick it.

 
10. I Want it All – Queen

No.

 
11. Jump/Jump for my Love/Jump Around – Van Halen/The Pointer Sisters/House of Pain

Stop **#?!@* jumping!

 
12. Paint it Black – The Rolling Stones

Don’t you dare.

 
13. Kung Fu Fighting – Carl Douglas

I don’t care if everybody was doing it.

 
14. Hot n Cold – Katy Perry

Yes, I know: ‘you’re hot then you’re cold, you’re yes then you’re no, you’re in then you’re out, you’re up then you’re down, you’re wrong when it’s right, it’s black and it’s white…’ But, for the love of god, DO YOU LIKE CHEESE OR NOT?!

 
15. (You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party) – The Beastie Boys

No, you do not ‘gotta’. Especially when you are fighting with your sister for the right to hold an imaginary tea party on the cat.

Malevolent Goblin on the Shelf: An Alternative Guide for Those Scared of the Elf

23-elf-shelf-w1200-h630December is here again. The count down to Christmas. The magic, the wonder, the anticipation, the cold sweats, the paranoia, the mind-numbing terror… Yes, IT’S BACK. The sweet Christmas tradition/horror story apparition that is the Elf on the Shelf.

Whilst the brave out there happily place the nefarious imp in cute toilet fishing poses, and share ever more ambitious fun activities for the malevolent goblin to engage in, I am presenting an alternative list of Elf on the Shelf suggestions. So, here it is: my line up of daily Elf on the Shelf activities for those among us who are outright terrified of the evil, creepy little critter.

*Keep this list well hidden. We meet in secret, under cover of darkness. Do not use real names. HE’S WATCHING US. And I think he possesses powers of mind control: keep your mind blank. DO NOT LOOK DIRECTLY AT HIM.*

 
 
Day 1

Position Elf in a cute pose with Elsa. Tell Elsa if Elf makes any sudden moves, freeze him.

 
Day 2

Put Elf in a drawer. If the drawer starts calling your name in the night, do not open it.

 
Day 3

Hide knives.

 
Day 4

Put Elf and Barbie in a toy car at the ‘drive in’ (i.e. in front of the TV). Give Barbie some mace.

 
Day 5

Send Elf to see a forensic psychiatrist (Donald Pleasence from Halloween, preferably) – he may be redeemable.

 
Day 6

Put Elf in a strait jacket after forensic psychiatrist says he’s dead behind the eyes.

 
Day 7

Position Elf anywhere in the house. Move house.

 
Day 8

Pose Elf as though he is having a bath. Fill bath with holy water.

 
Day 9

Find a corner to sit in. Rock backwards and forwards, muttering, ‘Please don’t hurt me. Oh god, please don’t hurt me!’

 
Day 10

Put Elf outside. Change locks.

 
Day 11

Set up CCTV, just in case.

 
Day 12

Obtain a sample of DNA from Elf. Familial testing might prove a link to Chucky.

 
Day 13

Serve Elf with a restraining order.

 
Day 14

Write to Father Christmas about Elf. Threaten a diplomatic incident with the North Pole if he doesn’t stop sending spies.

 
Day 15

Take up witchcraft. Position Elf in chalk circle on the floor to bind the evil spirit.

 
Day 16

Call the Ghostbusters. Worth a try.

 
Day 17

Find Elf grinning maniacally with his head stuck through an axe hole in a door. Call an exorcist when you realise that you did not put him there.

 
Day 18

Sleep with the light on. Do this every night, in fact.

 
Day 19

Give Elf a haircut. So that you can look for the Mark of the Beast on his scalp.

 
Day 20

Obtain a Batman on the Shelf to watch the Elf on the Shelf.

 
Day 21

Ask Father Christmas for a panic room.

 
Day 22

Put a stake through Elf’s heart.

 
Day 23

Decapitate Elf.

 
Day 24

Burn Elf and bury ashes in multiple different locations.

 
 
Finally, delete all social media accounts before Girl from the Ring on the Shelf becomes a Christmas trend.

The Nativity for Toddlers

christmas-1010749_1280As Christmas is approaching, and it is not the easiest of stories to explain to toddlers, I hereby present my specially adapted Nativity Story for Toddlers.

 
 
The Nativity Story, Adapted for Toddlers

 
A long, long time ago…
(No, not last week. Longer ago than last week. A very, very long time ago. How long? 2000 years. No, that’s quite a lot earlier than yesterday. Yes, earlier than last Tuesday. Earlier than last Monday, too. Never mind.)

A long, long time ago – around last Monday – there was a woman called Mary. Mary was engaged to a man called Joseph…
(It means she was going to marry Joseph. Yes, that is nice. She was probably going to wear a pretty dress, yes.)

Mary and Joseph lived in a town called Nazareth…
(No, that isn’t where Grandma lives. It’s a long way from here. No, further away than Tesco.)

Anyway, they lived in Nazareth – down the road from Grandma – and one day Mary was visited by an angel called Gabriel. The angel Gabriel told Mary not to be afraid, she had been chosen by God, and would become pregnant…
(It means she was going to have a baby. How would she get the baby? Well, that is an excellent question. The Holy Spirit was going to put the baby inside her tummy. Who is the Holy Spirit? Next question! The Holy Spirit is kind of a part of God. It was God’s baby.)

The angel Gabriel told Mary she would become pregnant – AND NOT TO ASK ANY MORE QUESTIONS ABOUT HOW THIS WOULD HAPPEN – and have a baby boy, who she should call Jesus…
(Why was he called Jesus? Because God said so. No, you can’t argue with God.)

The baby Jesus would be God’s son.

Mary told Joseph about the baby. Joseph was worried and wondered if he should still marry Mary… (Why? Well, that’s grown up stuff, really. Let’s not worry about it.)

An angel visited Joseph too, and told him not be worried about marrying Mary. The angel told Joseph that Mary’s baby would be the son of God and would be the Saviour of mankind…
(It means Jesus would save people. No, not from a dragon. What from? Well, that’s a bit complicated. From themselves, really. Well, that means…never mind.)

The Baby Jesus would save mankind – possibly from dragons. Joseph listened to the angel, and married Mary…
(Yes, I’m sure she did wear a pretty dress. No, I don’t have a picture. It’s not really the main point of the story.)

The Roman Emperor Augustus…
(The Romans were in charge of a lot of the world last Monday when this happened, and Augustus was their king.)

The Roman Emperor Augustus ordered everyone to travel to the place where they were born for the census…
(The census was a list of all the people. Augustus wanted a list of all the people so he could make sure that they all paid him money. Yes, it does sound like a good idea. No, you can’t conduct a census. No, I’m not giving you money.)

Mary and Joseph had to travel a long way from Nazareth to Bethlehem for the census, because Joseph was born in Bethlehem…
(Yes, Bethlehem is a long way from Grandma’s house, that’s right.)

Mary and Joseph had to travel very slowly because Mary was going to have her baby very soon, and she had a big tummy. When they arrived in Bethlehem, they could not find anywhere to stay. Everywhere was very busy because of all the people returning for the census…
(No, they couldn’t stay with Grandma. Grandma lives in Nazareth. No, Grandma doesn’t live in Nazareth, what am I talking about? Grandma lives in the Home Counties, nowhere near Nazareth or Bethlehem. She’s also not THAT old.)

The only place Mary and Joseph could find to stay was in the stable of one of the inns, so they made beds for themselves in the straw with all the animals…
(Yes, there was probably a cow. And a pig, yes. And sheep. There might have been a dog. Probably not any penguins, no. Well, penguins don’t live near Bethlehem. No reindeer, either. Yes, this is a Christmas story, but it’s not about Father Christmas. There are no reindeer. No, Father Christmas isn’t going to be in the story. Shall we finish it anyway, as we’ve got this far? I have no idea what the pig was called. It isn’t part of the story. Stanley. The pig was called Stanley. Can we carry on?)

So Mary and Joseph stayed with the animals, and the baby Jesus was born in the stable. The baby Jesus slept in the manger, where the animals ate their hay, because there was no crib…
(No, the animals didn’t eat the baby. I expect they ate their hay somewhere else while the baby Jesus was asleep.)

The Angels visited some shepherds, who were looking after their sheep near Bethlehem, and told them that God’s son had been born and could be found in a manger in the town. So the shepherds went to visit the Baby Jesus…
(Yes, a bit like when you went to visit your baby cousin. No, the shepherds didn’t take the baby Jesus a Sophie giraffe. Yes, you did take Sophie giraffe to your baby cousin. Well, the shepherds didn’t know they were going to be visiting a baby. And there was no Mothercare in Bethlehem.)

The shepherds were very pleased that the baby Jesus had come to save them – possibly from the dragons. They went back to their sheep…
(No, I don’t know the names of the sheep. No, there were too many to name. Fine. Gertrude, Bert, Phyllis, Frank, Cuthbert and Ethel.)

A new star appeared in the sky when Jesus was born. Some wise men saw the star and guessed what it meant…
(How? Because they were wise.)

Anyway, the Wise Men guessed that the star meant a new king had been born, and they began to follow the star to where the baby Jesus lay in his manger. The Wise Men traveled a long way and, on their journey, they stopped in Judea in a city called Jerusalem…
(No, you didn’t go to Jerusalem on Saturday. Yes, I’m sure. That was the soft play. No, it wasn’t the soft play in Jerusalem.)

In Jerusalem, people asked the Wise Men about the baby who would be the saviour and king of mankind. King Herod, who was the king of Judea (and a naughty man), overheard. He was angry because he believed the baby would take his place as king…
(Yes, exactly like when you are angry because your sister wants to be the doctor and you were the doctor.)

Herod called the Wise Men to visit him, and he told them that, when they found the baby Jesus, they should tell him where the baby was so that he could also visit the baby and take him gifts. But this was not really Herod’s plan. Really, Herod planned to kill the baby…
(No, that isn’t very nice, is it?)

The Wise Men followed the star to Bethlehem, and they gave gifts to the Baby Jesus…
(No, not a Sophie giraffe.)

The Wise Men gave the baby Jesus gold, frankincense and myrrh…
(No one knows what myrrh is. No, Frank isn’t Sophie giraffe’s brother. And it’s frankincense.)

The Wise Men were warned by Angels in a dream of Herod’s plan, so they did not return to Jerusalem to tell him where Jesus was. They traveled home a different way so that they would not see Herod… (They went the back way, past Asda, that’s right.)

Joseph was also warned by angels in a dream: he was told that Herod wanted to kill Jesus, and he should escape with Mary and the baby to Egypt…
(It doesn’t matter where Egypt is. Egypt is a different place, not near Nazareth, Bethlehem, Jerusalem or Grandma’s house. )

Mary, Joseph and Jesus fled to Egypt, and stayed until Herod died. King Herod was very angry when he realised that the Wise Men had tricked him. He ordered all baby boys under the age of two in Bethlehem to be killed, in the hope that one of them would be the baby Jesus…
(Yes, a very mean man. No, I don’t think he used poison apples. Yes, he is a bit like the evil queen in Snow White, though. No, I’m sure he didn’t actually manage to kill any babies, don’t worry. Yes, the huntsmen probably let them go…no, that’s Snow White again.)

After Herod died, an angel came to Joseph in a dream once more, and told him that it was safe to return home. Mary, Joseph and Jesus returned to their old town of Nazareth…
(Yes, near Grandma.)

Twelve Days of Brexit

image_update_imgLast year, I did the Twelve Days of Toddler. For this year’s Twelve Days of Christmas parody, I have decided to go political with Brexit.

(Please note that many of these actual numbers are made up to fit the song, but the points behind them are genuine!)

 
 
Twelve Days of Brexit

 
On the first day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the second day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Two racist newspapers,
And Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the third day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Three ‘enemies of the state’*,
Two racist newspapers,
And Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the fourth day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Four calls from Trump**,
Three ‘enemies of the state’,
Two racist newspapers,
And Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the fifth day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Five million angry Scots,
Four calls from Trump,
Three ‘enemies of the state’,
Two racist newspapers,
And Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the sixth day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Six banks a leaving,
Five million angry Scots,
Four calls from Trump,
Three ‘enemies of the state’,
Two racist newspapers,
And Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the seventh day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Seven clueless Ministers*,
Six banks a leaving,
Five million angry Scots,
Four calls from Trump,
Three ‘enemies of the state’,
Two racist newspapers,
And Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the eighth day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Eight embassies reporting hate crimes,
Seven clueless Ministers,
Six banks a leaving,
Five million angry Scots,
Four calls from Trump,
Three ‘enemies of the state’,
Two racist newspapers,
And Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the ninth day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Nine million people considering emigrating to Canada,
Eight embassies reporting hate crimes,
Seven clueless Ministers,
Six banks a leaving,
Five million angry Scots,
Four calls from Trump,
Three ‘enemies of the state’,
Two racist newspapers,
And Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the tenth day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Ten reinstatements of the same UKIP leader****,
Nine million people considering emigrating to Canada,
Eight embassies reporting hate crimes,
Seven clueless Ministers,
Six banks a leaving,
Five million angry Scots,
Four calls from Trump,
Three ‘enemies of the state’,
Two racist newspapers,
And Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Eleven far right organisations celebrating,
Ten reinstatements of the same UKIP leader,
Nine million people considering emigrating to Canada,
Eight embassies reporting hate crimes,
Seven clueless Ministers,
Six banks a leaving,
Five million angry Scots,
Four calls from Trump,
Three ‘enemies of the state’,
Two racist newspapers,
And Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary.

On the twelveth day of Christmas, Brexit sent to me:
Twelve EU leaders insulted*****,
Eleven far right organisations celebrating,
Ten reinstatements of the same UKIP leader,
Nine million people considering emigrating to Canada,
Eight embassies reporting hate crimes,
Seven clueless Ministers,
Six banks a leaving,
Five million angry Scots,
Four calls from Trump,
Three ‘enemies of the state’,
Two racist newspapers,
And NO RETURN OF SOVEREIGNTY!

 
 


*Otherwise known to sane people as ‘High Court Judges’
**To Nigel Farage, who Donald Trump may or may not believe runs our country
***This is a very generous estimate of the number of clueless members of the current government
****At least this is what it has felt like, it may have only happened twice in reality, but that is still ridiculous
*****By Boris thus far (probably!)