"No! No!" I cried, as I discovered my internet connection had gone AGAIN.
I rushed to the wall to turn the power off and on again but a minute later and still nothing.
"Goddamit!" I curse as I decide to repeat the off /on thing again just to make doubly sure.
"Ahah!" Whilst scrabbling around on the floor I come across a loose connection. It bears teeth marks. That will be the baby then. The blasted baby who has just got teeth and feels the need to dentally prove herself.
What was it the Health Visitor said about wires in the home?
"You haven't got any wires about the house that are within her reach, have you?"
"Oh no." I said.
Well really; what's the point of mentioning the phone wire and the wire for my PC and the wires to my internet router? Because I would just have had to listen to her tell me that they are a safety hazard. I know they are a saefty hazard, I'm not an idiot, but realistically homes have wires. Get over it. Or rather, step over it.
I have discovered that anytime my internet connection goes it usually has something to do with my baby daughter. Apart from ripping wires out with her new gnashers the self-catapulting baby has also launched herself head first onto my laptop and somehow managaed to knock the Wifi switch off. This child, unlike my over-cautious son, injures herself at least twice a day. I swear she could injure herself in a padded cell.
Yesterday she took the skin off her little finger by trapping it in a cupboard door (one which had child locks!!!) She then proceeded to eat her own excrement.
I'm not joking.
I left her without a nappy on, in our kitchen with a laminate floor (thought I'd covered all eventualities.) for one whole minute. Within seconds she had produced bite-sized poo pellets and popped one in her mouth.
A dangerous daughter is not the only cross we have to bear in our house right now. My son has developed a stammer. This is sometimes accompanied by rapid blinking. I too, am now developing a stammer. My daughter on the other hand, hardly ever blinks. I have an over-achieving blinker and an under-achieving blinker and I have caught my son's contagious stammer. All I need now is a nervous twitch and a lisp and we will have a full house of shit-eating, stammering, twitching affliction.
Did I mention the half-blind, stray cat that I found outside my flat this morning? Thank-you universe. Like I really needed that one. Many phonecalls to various cat charities later and I am no further ahead.
I am told that stammering is a phase. I am also told that it is hereditary. My mother suddenly revealed to me that I stammered as a child. Then I tell Bushman and he reveals that he stammered too. What fucking chance did our kids have then, of not stammering? Jesus!
Realistically it's just not enough to think that someone's cute when looking for a life partner. Potential mates should have to fill out an application form, including medicals, especially before you agree to have kids together. For example I should have given much more consideration to Bushman's feet before I decided to invite them into my gene pool. Our kids may be good looking but Jesus Christ - the feet my daughter has to live with for the rest of her life aren't the sort of feet that a woman should have to bear. She will never wear strappy sandals with pride.
So there you have it. One dysfunctional family. And NO! I'm not taking in the stray, blind cat.
4 years ago