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Having had the type of Dad my mother needed to plant a bomb under to get any attention, I’m therefore not one of those wives who imagines her fella will notice anything much at all. I don’t *do* hints, I paint huge great banners in bright red (metaphorically of course, though on occasion I have been known to leave notes spelling out my problem blatantly, like “DEAR HUSBAND, I HATE YOUR GUTS. IF YOU DON’T WANT ME TO LEAVE YOU, SORT [BLAH] OUT BY THIS DATE OR ELSE.” (I’m thinking of having stationary printed with these messages already on, with just a space for the problem or issue that needs sorting – reckon I could make a killing! Any takers, laydeez?)

So anyway: yesterday, I had my hair done. Very nice it is too. My hair was looking a bit mental as if it might join some kind of witches’ union, so I had a trim and whilst I was there I thought it might be fun to have a colour slice. Despite this sounding like some kind of rainbow-induced torture, it actually involves having streaks of colour through your hair. I opted for violet and blue since I thought it would be nice to have something a bit racy for Christmas.

PLEASE NOTE: violet and blue are obvious colours! I had also TOLD MY HUSBAND IN ADVANCE I was having my hair done, even reminded him that morning, so he could automatically tell me how fabulous I look when he comes home and I can live in the blatant fantasy that he remembers this type of thing.

Did he? Nooooooooo.

Not even when my son pipes up the moment he comes through the door: “Wow Mum, your hair looks great!”

I taught him well.

The Husband however is in my dungeon I prepared earlier for such occasions.

In other news, my little girl has developed a rather embarrassing habit of making up songs in supermarkets. This morning’s went like this:

“One, two, three
What the hell is that
Upon your knee??”

I suppose I should be grateful she appreciates the importance of good metering and it wasn’t “WTF is that upon your knee?” Sigh.

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10 thoughts on “NEWSFLASH: Men Are Crap”

  1. “Men Are Crap”? Isn’t that the theme of about 50% of the adverts on TV?

    Flashback; my mother came home from the hairdressers one day, and walked into the room where my father was sitting reading the paper.
    “What do you think of my haircut?” she asked.
    My father lowered the paper, and as he’d obviously only listened to the last word of her question, replied, “Yes, I think you’re right – you should get it cut.”
    I was a mere spectator that day, but I learned the importance of noticing such things…

  2. Elinor – that’s a GREAT idea. My people will call your people.

    John – you are obviously akin to Yoda and must do all you can to reducate your peers. Stat!

    Pdiddy – Thanks! I do have very dark hair, so I need to stand in the light for the violet to be really visible, though the blue is quite obvious. Will see if I can get it to show on my new delicious digital camera.

    Laurence – your appreciation of my daughter’s musical talent means you do not die today.

  3. Sorry, but we need a newsflash that men are crap? Surely not!

    Check this out: my Ex and I were trying for a baby. After a test, I say to him, “Great news. Two dots.”

    “Oh good,” he says, “To be honest I didn’t want a kid anyway.”

    When I point out two dots means POSITIVE he splutters, “Oh, I thought negative and was just trying to console you.”

  4. OMG, that’s REALLY crap – gotta laugh though, right? Know right where you’re at with crap exes and babies, Anya. How are you feeling anyway, you must be about ready to sprog ANY SECOND NOW???

  5. I have tankles and am the size of a house.

    Otherwise I feel great – fantastic to be back in blighty. Only so much pastrami on rye a girl can take! Plus the Ex is stuck back in NY, so a whole ocean is just about far enough for me…

  6. I must confess to being one of those oblivious gents so i think my lovely laydee would find use for the post-its.

    I am always trying to get her to dye an electric blue streak in her hair but have had no such luck. Apparently “my work” frowns on flagrant displays of individuality.



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