i do not have big cameras watching my every move although the government pretty much control my life, but what i actually mean is my house this morning is like an eventful episode of Big Brother (as in the channel 5 interpretation of this concept which i actually watched and found pretty interesting)and i have, this morning,done a fabulous impression of both Denise and Nicola- the latter of whom i found myself finding annoying. however this morning i have done a good job of becoming them both. and in this mix my significant other has become Michael whotsit from reservoir dogs (i was pretty young but i never did find out the correlation between the title and action of that film although all i can actually remember is the famous song and ear cutting episode- i will try to find out why its called that later).
though i quite liked Michael cos he just looked and acted cool and had such innate confidence it was difficult to dislike him, it was through his thing with Denise as portrayed perhaps by editors, not sure, that kind of showed that flaw in humans i find particularly miserable. the inability to be kind. period.
now my siggie is not really like that but he just drives me insane sometimes and makes me mad and say words i cannot stand like audacity- it has its place. and then we have a big shouting match in front of the kids- thus reinforcing my shit self image as a parent- and making me once again hanker after another more gentle life, where hands are all gentle and voices low and calm and there is no sense of threat around the corner no real possibility of exploding tempers or repressed passions volcaning from their surface and stuff
i just hate when i have been like Celie in color purple- cleaning up; holding crying baby; preapting weeks clothes; cleaning out fridge; feeding and attending to baby and kid and crawling round wiping kitchen floor and hoovering other peoples debris etc etc etc etc etc etc etc hoovering; placating crying baby on hip etc etc etc etc etc etc my siggie comes down from upstairs having had a long hot bath. ps last bath i had included baby and was therefore luke warm and shallow, he then suddenly roars STOP PUTTING THE F ING CAT BOWL ON THE TABLE NO WONDER WE GOT WORMS (we havent) nits (okay the kids have picked up damn nits at school i am on a daily mission to destroy any last one and all its paraphenailis with conditioner and combs and fingers over and over cos my annoying doctor wouldn't prescribe strong 'perticisdes' as she called them but that's another story)
and i am like there(becoming american again) thinking even louder than he shouted fuck off because i have just been crawling round in f ing confined spaces witha baby on heel and child sweetly playing some crazy imaginative game near by, and i have picked up yogort tops and wiped grime and hoovered ash and tobacco bits and shite from the floor and the baby just goes to put his hand in the bowl of nasty, repulsive, dodgy, awful, my-poor-cats cat food - my daughter stops her pirate/ make believe game to say MUM HE'S GONNA PUT HIS HAND IN THE CAT FOOD then i whip it up and pop it on higher surface- the computer table siggie likes to sit at- i have just wiped it (as i only do) with some strong toxic cleaning spray as vinegar just doesn't do the trick (i have tried) and i place it there and continue clearing until its relatively clean and kids can play on floor without catchimng disease.
then i move on to next job- leaving cat shitty food out of reach and blah blah blah. then 10 minutes later He emerges from bath and then i, who is at last sitting down holding baby and sipping luke warm tea, hear this monstrosity of a bloody shout and my blood near boils (cripes i think Celie from colour purple is possessing me)
so hey heres to Shug Avery .
i am just glad my son is not here he is sick of us arguing.
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