HaventSleptForAYear fancies the idea of setting up regular Date Nights with her DH, but he thinks it's a cheesy idea, "Do any of you do this? How did you persuade DH?" "You don't call it a date night," advised Cappuccino, "you just get the kids to bed and say, 'Here is a film, here is some wine,' or if that fails, 'here are my breasts.'" ICod thought the whole concept was humbug, "Much better are nights where you watch tv in different rooms, occasionally shouting 'youalright', then shuffling off to bed. That's a REAL marriage."
What disgusting things have you ingested by mistake? sighed TheDevilWearsPrimark seeking empathy after she discovered lumps of croutons, bacon and lettuce in her morning coffee, "Someone clearly thought it would be a fun game to post the leftover Caesar salad into the milk bottle." JudgeNutmeg once inhaled an earwig that had crawled into her asthma inhaler, "I felt it hit the back of my throat at about 6 million mph which made me hurl at a correspondingly fast rate." "I ate a rabbit poo thinking it was a rice crispie once," added Fishie, while oiFoiF went one better, "I ate my son's poo. I had changed his bum on the sofa and it must have fallen onto my plate of salad. I took a handful of salad and eww."
If you still giggle when you meet someone called Ralph or occasionally find yourself praying for bigger breasts, then you probably grew up on a staple diet of Judy Blume, reminded Cod this week, after rediscovering the classic pre-teen shocker 'Are you there God? It's me, Margaret'. "I read it when I was about 10 and I remember it being really shocking." Artichokes admitted to being rather misled by the tame references to masturbation, "I think she mentions a 'special place' above her knees that it feels good to rub. I remember this as I spent a long time rubbing my upper knee and waiting to feel good."
Wtf is a "school run dress"? demanded TooTicky, who clearly doesn't ask herself "What Would Grace Kelly Do?" before doing the school drop-off, "Do you have nothing more important to think about?" NorthernLurker was not to be deterred "There's a mum at our school who has a fab belted raincoat and very glossy lipstick," and "the rest of us know each others wardrobes off by heart." But Cappuccino has the measure of school-gate politics, "If you wear make-up for the school run and let it be known that you bake your own biscuits everyone thinks you have life sorted."
Has anyone actually managed to p*ss through their Spanx without a wetting incident? asked Monkeybird, who was examining the access flaps on her new supportive undergarments, "The thing is, you really CAN'T get them off. Well, not in the time it takes you to be able to hold in your post-baby wee. And if you then wanted to put them back on again, you'd be ready for the carriages at midnight before you got out of the ladies again." "I bet Gok never gets asked this!" remarked Gingerbear, while BlinkingNoraWotzThat remained unmoved, "My MIL gave me something of a similar nature to try. I sewed up the legs and used them to store plastic bags." Fortunately, help was at hand from veteran Spanx wearer Wilbur, who recommended taking the plunge and removing them each time, "I just thrash about in the loo cubicle until I get them off. If I am drunk, the thrashing progresses to whirling and cannoning off the walls, but it is still worth it to be flub-free and not smelling of urine."
MORNINGPAPER XXX