Tuesday, 8 November 2016

Hand in my pocket...

I realised yesterday that it is only two weeks before I have to don a posh frock for a big family 'do'.  Having come to the conclusion that my Uncle Fester cassock (with or without pillow stomach) will  not suit the occasion, a new eating regime has been introduced for the next two weeks.  This entails cutting out anything I like eating, and will probably mean that the husband will want to stop talking to me round about Wednesday, while I survive on water and lettuce.  It's not that extreme actually, and I'm sure that the odd piece of flapjack will wheedle its way past my pathetic self-control (probably on Fat Friday at work)  but I am determined to lose the few pounds which I seem to have put on since last wearing the dress I have in mind for the 'do'.  I say few pounds, but I think I am erring on the side of downright lies when I say this.  Either way, I'm going to do my best, and with the help of my vacuum knickers, I might just pull it off...

The husband and I had a very quiet Sunday after the raucous night at Miss R's on Saturday.  We ended up in a very lacklustre garden centre somewhere between Bracknell and home, enjoying an equally uninspired lunch.  While we were ploughing our way through it, I said to the husband that the garden centre had its Christmas stuff out.  The first mention of Christmas always elicits a rolling of the eyes, accompanied with a 'But it's only November.  Far too early for all that'. 

I on the other hand get all giddy at the smallest bit of sparkle, and shot over to where it all was as soon as I was finished.  Two things caught my eye, but probably not for the reason you think.  The first item was one of those large heated slippers which both feet could go into.  Nothing wrong with that, I hear you all say, but what was weird was that all of them were famous cartoon characters, so were obviously targeted at the younger generation.  I thought that these were only to be used  by old people, but it now seems that the manufacturers feel that it's ok to encourage children to sit on the sofa all day in their dressing gowns, while their feet roast to epic proportions.  Get them outside I say, before chilblains and frostbite become a thing of the past.  For goodness sake, the kids will be wanting gloves next....

The second item took some investigating before I realised what it was.   Another cuddly toy, with the name Spuddy emblazoned across the shelf.  These were about a foot tall/round/side to side and were dressed in various guises.  I picked up the Batman one and tipped it this way and that to try and find out what it was for.  As I turned it around it all made sense.  This was a cuddly toy, with handy pockets for the remote control, beer and snacks.  How do I know this?  Because it was very usefully embroidered onto each pocket so there would be no confusion as to what went where, what with men being simple creatures and all that.  To be honest, I couldn't see the attraction, as I couldn't find one which matched my couch.  There was an Elvis one which came close (he had no trousers though) and I even considered the Mob Barley one with dreadlocks and the Mr Tea, resplendent with gold bling.  But the trouble was, there wasn't one for us girls. I get the beer/remote/snacks combo for the fellas, but what would I put in one for me?

After much thought, and bearing in mind that I would be on the couch watching TV while my Spuddy sat next to me (I'm not referring to the husband here in case you're wondering), here is what I decided on...

Missiles
This would contain several walnuts to launch at the husband when he was snoring

Gin
Never mind one bottle of beer. I calculated that I could get five miniature of Gordons in the pocket

Batteries
Taken out of the remote control after I had decided what I wanted to watch that night

What would yours contain?

Answers on a postcard ladies...
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