Easter Ducking About..

I have been really good for the last few days. I haven’t scared the mailman, or pissed off next doors dog, or thrown gas-ex or condoms or any other “how did that get there?” items in anyone’s shopping cart… I haven’t even slung my phone across the room when it kept misspelling what I was trying to say – it couldn’t last.

Kind of like Icelandic Volcano, “Ay’ve-nay-feckin-clue” you just know that when I’m quiet, shits still bubbling away, fermenting, growing, waiting to burst out and splatter everything in sight.

Today was one of those days. Behaving just wasn’t an option. It was a bit of a conundrum though ‘cos tomorrow’s Easter Sunday and as we all know, that means Easter Eggs! I happen to know I have a Thornton’s Special Toffee Easter Egg waiting so I don’t want to jeopardise that. Talk about the horns of a dilemma huh? What’s a girl to do?

I was wandering around like a lost soul opening cupboards and drawers, looking for some kind of inspiration when ‘im indoors lolloped into the room. “What are you looking for?” Sez he

And there it was. Opportunity had knocked!

“I can’t find it” I whined, opening more and more drawers and cupboards.

“What are you looking for?”

“You know – my %*!£* “ I muttered intelligibly from the depths of a corner carousel cupboard. (Don’t worry, I didn’t climb in – that’s reserved for tumble dryers)

“I can’t hear you, what are you looking for? I might know where it is.”

Seriously? This is the man who can’t find his arse with both hands. He needs shat-nav to find the loo. He thinks he can find anything he’s looking for never mind anything I’m PRETENDING to be looking for?!

“I can’t find my ducksay.”

“Your what??”

“My ducksay”

“What’s a ducksay?”

“Quack, Quack”

It would appear we are now participating in an Easter Silence in this house. Either that – or I Am Being Ignored!! On an up note, every time my iPhone autocorrects to “ducking” today – it will actually be right!!

23 thoughts on “Easter Ducking About..

  1. Yeah. Theres a post. What is it, is it genetic that males can’t find ANYTHING?
    Clay: wheres the milk?
    Me: second shelf.
    He’s standing at the fridge, doors open and literally standing right in front of it!
    Clay: its not here! Are we out?
    I have to get up, walk to kitchen, pick it up and hand it to him!
    (Offering him some of those cookies we talked about earlier to go with it.)

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