I’m ill. Again / still.

I can’t shake this cold. It was reignited after braving storm Imogen (ftw. Imogen. Seriously. What’s with the ridiculous names?) to take Ramona to playgroup.

But being a full-time mum means you aren’t allowed to be ill. So instead, I tidied.

Tupperware. Lovely Tupperware. You cuddle our leftover food, acting, more often than not, as the “look at how frugal we’re being” transition before putting our leftovers in the waste bin.

My husband complains about the Tupperware EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. Post dinner he commences, as he calls it, with the ‘Battle of the Boxes’. He’s been demanding a drawer. He’s sick of trying to stack them on the high shelf. Why isn’t there a correct lid to tub ratio? Blah blah blah.

Whoever had thrown this out had clearly been suffering from the same problems...
Whoever had thrown this out had clearly been suffering from the same problems…

So I cleared out the baby junk drawer and gave him the best Valentine’s present he could ever hope for.

Ta-da. Happy Valentine's.
Ta-da. Happy Valentine’s.

I’m off to shove tissue back up my nose.

I hope your day is going splendidly.

 

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