That’s right; poor Sebastian (that’s his name) is afraid of thunder & lightning. I always thought it was brontophobia but I believe the internet). First we learn brontosauruses are Apatosaurus, now brontophobes are astrophobes.

How do I know that my poor baby is scared. He stops working and hides down inside himself.


He won’t even talk to his favourite kitten.

Added to this he appears to have some sort of fight going on with the router. They keep deciding they are not speaking to each other when I’m doing something on the internet or trying to wirelessly print.
It’s my husband’s 25th anniversary on Wednesday. The saint is of course more than ready; he’s organised a party and a holiday and he is so thoughtful that I hate him. Although I’ve started to look forward to the holiday. Although Mum says Charlie starts to fret inconsolably by about the 3 hour mark when I’m away; doctor, shopping or school for instance, so I’m worried about how he’ll cope when I’m away for three days.

Natasha complained that I was more worried about Charlie than my children. I pointed out that none of my kids could care less if I disappeared but Charlie did.
“Yeah, you’re right!” she replied.
Back to my point; so of course I’m running late with present, card, etc. The saint had to stay in the Granny flat an hour for me to finish his card on his birthday. So of course Mr Romance had to bring the party forward a day; so we could have our anniversary all to ourselves.

Women are supposed to dream of a romantic husband. It’s annoying, I have nothing to hold over him, and I’m useless at the soppy stuff. Half the time I ruin his romantic gestures let alone thinking something up myself. Oh and contrary to my children’s opinion I do not ruin them on purpose I am just controlling & obtuse.
Apparently he had a romantic proposal dreamed up. I said (about a month before) something along the lines of; we’ve shut my mother up with her stupid time limit we may as well get married. Romantic, huh? And I don’t even think it was a leap year.

Back to the point. Hey doesn’t that sound like a call in square dancing.
“Swing you partner, dousy dough! Back to the point and around you go!”
Sorry, I couldn’t resist! Back to the point; so I was doing a lot of computer and internet stuff in preparation for a half hearted attempt at trying to make myself look less like the Ice Queen of cold hearted witches. It’s family, they know me but I’m still trying to convince everyone I’m not the Queen, Duchess maybe but not Queen.

I can’t tell you what I have bought, organised & made; because the saint supports my blogging by reading every word I write. I think an important part of being so romantic must be a high tolerance for boredom. I have trouble getting into the stuff he likes. Being supportive is exhausting; & I hate it.
So no blogging, emails piling up, sleepy, annoying children haven’t had enough attention, blah blah! But Charlie loves me; he ate enough lollies to sink a battleship and then 3 bites of Rainbow Paddle Pop; he loves everybody if he can slow down enough to see them. At least he’ll love me until the sugar rush drops. Oh yeah ; I’m in trouble for accidentally sugar hyping the dog too. But he loves lollipops, and musk sticks, and snakes, and nougat, and he’s not allowed chocolate, and he looks so sad. Plus ice cream is his favourite food.
At least its not as bad as the time he deliberately got his head stuck in my coffee cup so he could drink all my coffee. Or the time Mum was carrying him and picked up her cup and I warned her. While she was laughing at me he darted his head and while she was struggling to make sure he didn’t fall he got his head stuck in her cup and drank all her coffee.

I am too tired to write a blog, I appear to be rambling. Oh no, I just remembered ; that’s my style.
Okay, how do I finish this post? I have no idea! I can never the remember the proper order of the words of the goodnight song from “Sound of Music”. If I suddenly stopped typing, would anyone worry? Would anyone come looking for me?
What’s that noise?
Oh it’s stopped, I’m sure it was noth….


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