Oh ye of little faith...

>> Monday, 10 March 2008

Well, I finally know how to get you guys interested. It seems that chocolate is the key - why on earth didn't I think of this earlier? Just include the word 'chocolate' in a post and hits on the blog go up by 20%. Brilliant!

So....

Chocolate

Chocolate

Chocolate

(Repeat to fade...)


But I know what you're really here for. Did I eat it or not?

Now, I thought about stringing you along for a while in a radio-show host styley, which by the way, really pisses me off.... Don't they think about the heart-rate of the poor person on the other end of the phone when they say; "Sandra..... Sandra...." "Yes?" "How much do you need this money?" "Oh, Chris, you have no idea. It will really make a difference." "And what do you think? Did you give me the correct answer?" "I don't know Chris. I mean, I thought I had, but then my neighbour's sister-in-law knocked on the window during the ad-break and told me that the capital of Spain was Majorca, and now I'm all confused..." "Well, Sandra. She's wrong. It's not Majorca." "Yes?" "So Sandra......" "Yes?"

And so on.

But then I realised you would just skip the waffling and jump straight to the answer, so here it is.




No. I did not eat the chocolate.


But before you click away, muttering to yourself about inhuman will-power and start thinking I am not the down-to-earth everywoman you imagined, let me add this:

I did not eat the chocolate. Yet.


I know, I know. I've come this far. 3 days home alone (with the Boys, clearly, who can forget them?), and I've not given in. Why stop fighting now?

Have you heard about the straw that broke the camel's back? Well, these are today's...


Straw 1

As you know, Husband is away. Whilst I'm generally an emancipated independant sort of a woman, since I had the kids I find it difficult to sleep if there is no snorer next to me. I kind of put myself on high alert in that situation, so if the boys so much as sniffle I sit up in bed and start imagining all sorts of disaster scenarios. For example, last night...

Disaster Scenario 1.

Boy #2 coughs.

What if he's got pneumonia? Who will look after Boy #1 if I have to take Boy #2 to hospital? Will the neighbours answer if I call them to do it (at 3am?). Who else will be in the peadiatric emergency ward if I take Boy #2 in? Will I be exposing my child to TB / Legionnaires Disease / The Plague? Should I pack a bag? What about formula? Where is the Karvol?


Disaster Scenario 2.

It starts raining.

Oh god. We live in a basement. Will the drains take it? What can I do if they don't? I KNEW I should have bought sand-bags. But then where would we keep them? Can't keep them outside because of course then they would get wet in the rain, and then they would be too heavy for me to move them in front of the front door. But we don't have them, so... Gosh, that rain's heavy. Where are the passports? Better have them handy in case we need to get out of the flat. (?????)

And so on.


Straw 2.

Boy #1's whinge-fest when he got up this morning. It sounded as if I was inflicting all sorts of injuries. When I asked him to clear up the blocks he had tipped all over his bedroom floor before we left, you should have heard the moaning. There were tears, shouting, sobbing, and general despair as he tried to explain (through the hysterical hiccups) that he was simply looking for the rest of his Dizzy (Bob the Builder) lego toy, which it was vitally important to find before he went in to school.

Now, I knew that most of this toy was rattling around in the bottom of his toy box, but that would have entailed a full-scale excavation worthy of the Valley of the Kings, with all sorts of treasures coming to the surface to distract and delay us before we left the house at 8.15am, so decided that the upset was better than the chaos that would have ensued if I shared this information.

Bad mummy.


Straw 3

Husband calls from Moscow. When I dutifully enquire after his health he announces grimly that he is alright - now.

Clang (that's the bell of doom, by the way).

It transpires that, whilst staying in a friend's apartment, he was taking a shower this morning, stepped out of it to reach for the shampoo he had left in his soap-bag, slipped, careered across the tiled floor, fell with a mighty thud, and slid into the side of the bath where his foot went through an unbacked tile, slicing open his big toe. (I won't tell you left or right. The poor man has to keep some secrets).

Apparantly, as he was falling, in that split second 'life-flashing before your eyes' moment, he foresaw complete disaster and envisaged breaking his back and having no way to answer the call to the emergency services when they came rushing to the door to save him. (Honestly, talk about hysterical thoughts, or what?).

A hospital visit was required, (although he was able to walk there, hmmm), and shots and antibiotics were prescribed. Unsuprisingly, he is feeling rather sorry for himself.

Great. I'm sympathetic, of course I am, but as we are due to be skiing this weekend (yes, our weekend away, the one without the kids), this is not the best news. And guess who no doubt will be carrying both our bags through the airport?

Bad wife.


Straw 4

Nuts at this afternoon's playdate. None consumed by the Boys, but my condition of 'high alert' was increased until it was one minute to midnight on the Doomsday clock (check the link if you don't know what I'm talking about) for the whole afternoon. Not relaxing. I wouldn't mind but I always let the mums know about Boy#1's allergy in advance. I think that next time this happens I will simply walk around with the Piriton on my belt in a holster.

(It's a shame we all have mobiles in a way. If we didn't I could drive the point about cause (nuts) and effect (hospitalisation) home even further by asking the host mum to make sure she keeps her landline free in case I need to call 999...)


Straw 5

A parking ticket when I came out of both the Boy's parents evening at their nursery. Yes. I know. Parents evenings for a 2 and a 4 year old. (Obviously they are both child prodigies who are delights to teach, but you don't need to know that...).


And so. No chocolate consumed - yet.

14 comments:

Guineapigmum 10 March 2008 at 23:57  

What is it about Moscow and husbands? I remember a few years back when my husband phoned from Moscow to tell me 1) that he'd missed his flight to the nether regions of Russia and so had to stay in Moscow for the night but 2) he'd left all his credit cards at home.
I don't quite remember how we resolved it, though.

Iota 11 March 2008 at 02:33  

Well I think if you've got through those straws without succumbing, then your will power is very impressive. But I think the final straw will be this: you bought the chocolate for only the vaguest of purpose ('presents at Easter'), and unless some valid and useful reason for the purchase presents itself, there will continue to be no real reason why you shouldn't eat the chocolate, and so you will. You need a neighbour who needs cheering up, or an ailing mother, or a friend with boyfriend troubles, or some such. The matter is really out of your hands.

ped crossing 11 March 2008 at 06:37  

You can resist. You are doing so well.

Did that help?

Potty Mummy 11 March 2008 at 09:58  

On the plus side though GPM, he was at least in Moscow and not in the nether regions...

Iota, spot on, I need to start recruiting troubled friends / family immediately. I can see it now; the phone rings and a friend tells me she's lost her job / house / cat / boyfriend. After a suitable interval of placatory talk I will say; "and I've got just the thing to cheer you up!"

Of course, when I visit to drop them off, I will end up consuming at least of them myself (and regret sharing them in the first place...)

Ped, thankyou. It did help. Until Straw 6...

grit 11 March 2008 at 11:28  

straw one is enough for me ... in fact by now i would be five bars in.

Pig in the Kitchen 11 March 2008 at 12:37  

hmmmm, now you do have my sympathies, really you do. It's tough with a husband away - especially when he so clearly nearly amputated his entire lower torso - and it's rough being the only grown up in charge. In spite of this - nay, indeed, BECAUSE of this - i'm going to come out and say what i SUSPECT everyone else is thinking.
I'm not sure I believe that you HAVEN'T eaten the chocolate. I know we're all supposed to be loving and supportive in blogland, but perhaps it was something about you talking about your hit rate and your overuse of the word chocolate...(btw, try writing 'naked Britney Spears smeared in Chocolate' that'll send your hit rate north)

I'm beginning to wonder about you Potty Mummy...

I think we need to have proof.

Hardcore photographic filth - I want to see the full bag of chocolate!!

Pigx
I'm coming round later to check - I know where you live.
(Kensington isn't a big place is it?)

Jonny's Mommy 11 March 2008 at 13:26  

I would have had that chocolate consumed by straw one. You are a strong, strong lady. God bless you. I'm an emotional eater. I'm emotional before I eat it and emotional while I eat it and then emotionally guilty after I eat it. *sigh*

Potty Mummy 11 March 2008 at 13:41  

Grit, if I had had your Sunday and Monday, so would I...

Pig, I'm deeply hurt. I can - and will - provide proof if you want to come and see for yourself. (And by the way, do you take your tea French or English style these days? And would you care for some chocolate with that?)

J's Mommy - anyone who claims NOT to be an emotional eater clearly has had much too easy a life!

Guineapigmum 11 March 2008 at 15:54  

I'm testing out the chocolate/hit rate theory on my blog. Controlled experiment, you understand. I found the thing that increased my hit rate most was the picture I used of a nun smoking a bong.

I'm impressed with your evident strength of character btw. Even after straw 6 - we wait in anticipation - there's clearly some chocolate left.

aims 11 March 2008 at 16:04  

Each and every straw just cracked me up!!
What the hell - Easter is how far away??

Samurai Beetle 11 March 2008 at 17:21  

You have an iron will to go through this many straws and no chocolate consumption. I hope you have found some other treat to compensate.

Potty Mummy 11 March 2008 at 20:01  

GPM. you're right, there is chocolate left. But probably not for much longer...

Aims, Easter is... not close enough.

SB, no, frankly I haven't. Diet coke just doesn't cut it. And in any case - I've run out...

Virginia 12 March 2008 at 04:01  

Holy cow! I'm with the other commenters. I would have had the chocolate consumed well before the pile of straw grew so high!

Potty Mummy 12 March 2008 at 13:20  

Hi Virginia, thanks for the visit and as you may already have seen, I've caved and the chocolate is being consumed as we speak. Ah well. Self control was nice whilst it lasted...

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