Naughty Letters to Ms. Mac

Countless noble souls (and many fluffy kittens) sacrificed their lives during the making of this blog. We think you will agree they were worth it.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Dear Mrs McJudgement,

Oh dear, it seems all of those horrible parents you encounter on your walk to school could be rolled up and meshed together and in the resultant mélange, you'd probably find me. I ask you, were there no displays of good parenting to report? No kisses from loving mothers to sons, no hugs for daddy before heading into the school yard? No mothers running behind their precious offspring, waving bags filled with gôuter that their beloved littlies had left behind on the kitchen bench? Surely, the world's not going to hell in a hand-basket quite so soon?

Come on, love! Get your head out of the meta-physical and tell me if you dreamed of any lovely bods over the weekend. I dreamed last night that I was in a room filled with people. I knew that in amongst all of those people I'd find my true love, Mr George Clooney but I couldn't see him anywhere. It didn't help that my bearded wonder-husband kept standing in front of me, waving and shouting, "But I'm here, I'm here!" I wonder what my sub-conscious could possibly be telling me.....

The children are all off school now for Sportferien which is the two week break generously awarded to Swiss parents by the schools so they can take their children skiing. I won't be taking my children anywhere. Except perhaps to culinary heaven and back. Last night I cooked an outstanding lasagne and today I have plans to make my world famous and outrageously expensive (for a soup) ham and veggie soup for dinner. These kids of mine don't know how good they have it. See, in amongst the slovenliness, lateness, rudeness, cruelty (yes, I have been known to smack and shout) and stress, there's also an awful lot of love and attention for our children.

I hope I have set your mind at rest in this matter, at least for now.

With much navel-gazing love and meditative quisses,

Your soulie,


ps. I read a book today, Josephine Hart's Damage, which is described as a novel of sexual obsession and thought I would get a bit of a thrill from some raunchy passages. Pahhh! I've felt more stirring in my loins while watching Coronation St. What a rip off! (Other than that, it was ok though)


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