Children & babies · fun · General parenting · Home and Family · Love · Marriage · mental health · relationships · sacrifice

Tin Happy Years

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When one hears the word “Tin”, what generally springs to mind is a tin of flaked tuna, a singleton’s serving of chunky vegetable soup or some sugar-free baked beans. A gloopy cocktail of syrup, in a negligible amount of fruit, a fat-free, caffeine-free, everything-free Coke Zero or maybe even a G&T in a slimline can, if you’re really posh. Princes, Campbell’s, Heinz, Coca Cola or Gordons & Schweppes – whatever marketing masterpiece your tin of choice is encased within, at the end of the day, it’s final fate is as of any other cheap, rusty, hollow Tin Can, that is – cracked open, used and emptied, before being slung into the giant gob of a bacteria-infested, creeping crawling cesspit of a recycling bin.

So when my Other Half threatened to buy me a gift of some “Tin” to mark the, quite frankly, miraculous occasion of our Tenth Wedding Anniversary, you can imagine I was less than impressed. Do I look like I need another sodding Tin Can in my life? Do I not fork out enough money improving the condition of your heart with beans, beans, the more you eat the more you fart? And can I infer from this ever so subtle hint, that tonight’s “Three Tin Can Course” banquet is a notch up on the fare I usually provide? It is indeed hard to fathom how on earth this ghastly metal managed to make it’s way to the top spot marking the Big 10. Why “Tin” has traditionally been chosen to represent the tenth year of a successful marital union is quite simply beyond me. Could it be as trivial as a play on words – tin, ten, ten, tin? Or is there a more subtle hidden irony that Simple Women like me will Never. Ever. Get?

Apparently there is some logic behind the Ten Tin Conundrum. Tin is a soft and malleable metal with a low melting point, which when cast, becomes strong to create a protective coating for other metals. The crème de la crème of Tin does not tarnish or rust, thereby maintaining an untainted and highly polished finish. Tin represents durability and protection and according to ancient civilisations, wisdom, balance and kindness. Without Tin, they say our lives would be lacking mercy and a sense of morality, and our relationships would be much sterner and harsher. “They” are clearly a lot cleverer than I. However, now we’ve cleared up the truth about Tin, its privileged position commencing the Conjugal Double Digits should start to make sense, wouldn’t you think?

So when my Other Half threatened to buy me a gift of some “Tin” to mark our ten years of Holy Matrimony, perhaps this was in fact less of a threat and rather more a well-considered, meaningful act of sincerity and love? Could it be that He truly understood the significance of such a milestone in our lives together thus far? Was his hard and strong outer shell melting away to reveal a soft, molten inner core, gushing with the purest of love? Well, had I actually received said “Gift of Tin”, then I might have believed it. But let’s not get carried away. As with any anniversary, birthday or special celebratory day, at our ripening old age, there is always an air of disenchantment on the horizon. And on this particular occasion, our Tenth Wedding Anniversary (in case you didn’t realise), disregarding the disappointing lack of Tin Gift, not only was I physically as SICK AS A DOG but I was also embroiled in “women’s stuff”, of which I shall spare you any further details. Needless to say, there was disappointment all round. In fact, “disappointment” is a total understatement. This, combined with running around after Three Terror Tots in a Spring heatwave like no other, was enough to send us both over the edge. And apparently, it was my fault. It was all my sodding fault.

“If it’s not a migraine, it’s illness. If it’s not illness, it’s your monthly do. And if it’s not your monthly do, it’s chronic fatigue. In fact Dear Wife of Ten-Tin-Can-Years, it is so Gd’dam “coincidental“, you couldn’t have planned it better yourself. Or could you? For it seems just too “typical” that, on each and every opportune occasion such as this, something always gets in the way of a “Good Time”. Which leads me to question, Dear Wife of mine, is there ever a Good Sodding Time for anything more meaningful than shovelling up shitty nappies and continuing to hum nursery rhymes in solitude to oneself, after ten years of marriage and three kids?”

And breathe. If you’ve read my post The Seven Year Itch, you’ll realise that nothing much has changed in three years. And if you’ve also read my post The GR, you’ll know that with a miserable cow of a wife for 10 years, He is well within his rights to be pretty damn peeved. So having found other ways to pacify Him, such as food, complements and other unmentionables, let’s now remind ourselves of why we’re here discussing love, life and Tin in the first place. Three happy kids, three happy homes, a zillion happy holidays, seven happy cars, a loving family and a bunch of happy-clappy friends = Ten Happy Years. Now stop complaining and crack open an ice cold Tinny.

 

 

Children & babies · fun · General parenting · Home and Family · Motherhood · Travel

MayDay MayDay

Happy May Day! Luckily for us Great Brits, this year May 1st fell on a Monday, which meant another Glorious and Great British Bank Holiday for us all to enjoy. But today wasn’t going to be about BBQ’s, queues and booze. Today was to be about fun and frolics at the village fete, fairies, faun, flowers and phallic looking poles for us to prance around. Today was to be Pimms and lemonade on the lawn, followed by a raunchy summer romp in the miscanthus giganteus (that’s a large grass, just in case you were mistaken), finished off with the crowning glory of a beautiful May Queen. Happy May Day indeed. Could it possibly get any more pleasurable than this? Continue reading “MayDay MayDay”

Children & babies · Choice · fun · General parenting · Home and Family · Motherhood · Mum

The Great British Bank Holiday

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Roll on the Great British Bank Holiday. A delightful long weekend in which important, tired and hard-working people get to rest their weary heads, and less important but equally as tired and hard-working FTM’s get to, quite frankly, carry on regardless. A joyful time in which the Great British Public love to either a) inebriate themselves over three consecutive days, whilst manning a succession of dwindling tinfoil BBQs in the pissing rain, wearing T-shirt and shorts, b) spend quality time with husbands, wives, partners and children, engaging in cohesive and incredibly fun activities, such as Twister, Jenga and Junior Trivial Pursuit or c) a bit of both, more commonly known as boozed-up childcare in the rain. Whichever way you choose to spend your Bank Holiday though, one thing is for sure: The Great British Bank Holiday simply wouldn’t be the same without a Great British Queue.

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Children & babies · fun · General parenting · Home and Family · Motherhood · Mum · sacrifice

The Resurrection

The GR has resurrected herself. Bang on cue. Just in time for Easter. It’s Day 1 of the “holidays” and her timing is impeccable once again. Her little-black-cloak has been dry-cleaned, in honour of the numerous jollifications planned and her scythe has been sharpened, ready to strike anyone or anything that, quite frankly, has the audacity to Gd’dam breathe. Approach at your own risk.

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Children & babies · Choice · Friendship · fun · General parenting · Home and Family · Mum · sacrifice · Travel

Car Share

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So here’s the thing. For the past year or so, I’ve been involved in an arrangement. A you-scratch-my-back-and-i’ll scratch-yours type of thing. In fact, I could easily go as far as to call it a relationship. A mutually beneficial, reciprocal kind of relationship, which saw its inception at the school gates. At first I was dubious, but after several rides, I was hooked. And so was She. Soon there was little alternative – we’d be lost without each other. Continue reading “Car Share”