"You Stupid Woman!"

After a huge burst of momentum last week, things have pretty much ground to a sickening halt round here. Having packed up our books this week, we discovered that between us, the husband and I own enough tomes to open our very own used book store. They number in the hundreds...and yet, we do not find ourselves in possession of a home with its own library. Go figure.

Poor Dumps has had a bad week. Two injections (he calls them 'pops' in the arm) two days in a row has meant that he's not been in the best of spirits. To compensate he's been helping our local news agent do a booming trade in Kinder chocolate eggs.

Yesterday was his last one, and as I struggled to get him dressed in his puffy little red parka, his face red and furious, he screamed at me, "Go away you stupid woman! Me no want no more 'pop'!"

Good point. Nonetheless a worrying affectation he's recently picked up and one which causes me to break out in hives when uttered in public. It appears he's moved on from former insult of calling us all 'Stinky Boy'...though come to think of it...

Then again after school yesterday little Egg proudly told me how he called his teacher 'Little Miss Greedy' in class after she said she wanted to submit more than one child's artwork for a competition. I almost choked.

On another note, we had our first viewing from the estate agent this week, by a young couple with children who want to rent our place while we're gone. Turns out they want this place so badly because it means they go to the top of the waiting list they've been on for three years(!), for the coveted school across the road. We found this out when the admissions woman rang to ask what the heck was going on as both our children and hers were registered to this same address!

Bloody cheeky, they told her they signed a year lease!

(FYI...This is the same admissions lady who vividly recalls me accepting, then rejecting, then accepting, then rejecting once more, the coveted place at her school two years ago when we couldn't decide where to send Egg. Turns out she remembers me well, and is now completely justified in thinking I'm an unstable psycho mother from hell - and a liar to boot - as I was just in there Friday putting Egg and Dumps on the waiting list and assuring her that we'd be back for September....)

And will we? Who knows...

I guess it all depends on one thing...and one thing only...THE MONSTERS....(and can we find anyone suitable to help with them while we're there so we don't entirely lose the plot and end up with absolutely nothing to show for our sabbatical but shot nerves and a desire to go off to a monastery for a month...on our own).

Must go pack. Pack up my life. Throw some more things out. De-clutter my life...hide from Dumpie who is currently wielding a pair of scissors and cutting neat little round holes in all our expensive cardboard packing boxes...