If you were a fly on my wall, well....firstly you'd get swatted or sprayed to death with half a can of ozone destroying agents, but if you managed to live through that you'd hear some pretty weird stuff.
Yesterday, for instance, you might have heard a disgusted scream followed by "EUGH.... Tell your father I hate him!"
Now hold on, just let me stop you there....I can see you reaching for the phone to call social services...... both my daughter and her father were killing themselves laughing.
You see I have a bad habit, I chew my fingers, (auto cannibalism my hubby calls it) and every evening you can hear him moan "Stop chewing!" about a million times. I'll even hide under the cushions to nibble at that loose bit of flesh hanging by my nail....disgusting, isn't it!
Well the other evening he'd been threatening me with the "stop 'n grow," foul stuff that you paint on your fingers and it''ll make you sick if you get even the faintest taste of it, and I'd been my usual adult self going "Ner, ner de ner ner" back at him when....he pounced! He grabbed my hand and painted it with the vile sticky stuff!
I, of course, just muttered something about not needing such a childish disincentive and looked down my nose at him as I carried on with my crochet.
Half an hour later, I'd forgotten (is this a sign of impending senility?) and stuck my finger in my mouth for a good chew........."EUGH.... Tell your father I hate him!"
But, to get away from my bad habits let me show you what Kelli has forced me to start....
Cutting out and sticking down all the little pieces is fun, I admit......but now she wants me to hand stitch the fabric edges in blanket stitch. I tell you, I'm surrounded by bullies!