Happy MMXI

So, What have I done this year...

I've bloody well got my life sorted, is what. I've been earning money, and paying some taxes. I have not been shagging as much and subsequnetly met someone, Someone I feel may not be a complete cunt like everyone else. I've taken up hand-stitching pillows and strange alien shaped pillows, And I've learned the art of HOUSEWORK! Apparently, keeping on top of housework does not lead to 3 days of pure cleaning hell. Who knew?!

I've been in 2011 for an hour and a half so far and well.. I am slightly drunk, But not in a depressed "I'll throw up upon myself because who fucking cares" sort of way. I'm more of a "Oh look at me, All alive and shit" drunk right now. I wish there was a spliff in my hands as I write this, But I'm visiting relatives and they can sniff out wrong-doing like a cunty dog at a cunty underground station. Luckily, They don't see drinking or smoking as bad for me, So I've indulged slightly. (HELLO, YELLOW SKINNED, OUT-OF-PUFF DEATH!).

So.. Bye.

Negotiation Tactics = Piss Poor

It seems I have spent the past four months negotiating my way through every little daily task. With a four year old, No less.

"How about we don't eat the toothpaste. Then the mintyfreshness won't be overbearing."

"Instead of sliding through the ice to the shops, Shall we try marching like soldiers? We don't need Mummy's knee giving in, Do we?"

"Here is a spoon. You may find it easier to eat that yoghurt with a spoon than with your thumb and index finger.."

"I will have to give this Play-Doh to another little boy if you continue to force it down Mummy's throat.."

"CBeebies have decided to show Come Dine With Me repeats today. Shame, Aint it?"

"Now get some sleep before the outside monster comes to look at you through the window!"

Ok, so the last one was more of a threat than a negotiation tactic.. But it was the most efficient line I'd spun all week.

I really struggle to comprehend why this little buggar thinks it is acceptable to kick me in the back of the knee causing me to implode on myself in the middle of Sainsburys. He couldn't have waited until we were in the privacy of our living room?

Why must he decide it is HIS turn on the Wii just as I am about to beat my top score?! He wont even sit and wait for my turn to end before beating the Wii control out of my hand..

You may think, 'Discipline the child!', And believe me, I do. I discipline all fucking day long.

"Kick that ball at my Shisha one more time and I'll kick your bum upstairs to an early night with NO BEN 10!", And he'll back away from the ball, Only to pull apart my old Sidewinder tapes a minute later.

"Right, That's it. Bed. NOW!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! MUMMY, NO!"

"YES! I HAVE TOLD YOU THREE TIMES NOW TO BEHAVE YOURSELF AND YOU'RE STILL ACTING UP, SO CLI,MB UP THEM STAIRS RIGHT NOW!"

He'll go upstairs, I'll remove his Ben 10 DVD, and I'll wait outside his bedroom door, Patiently waiting for his soul to pour out of his mouth and drip into my pocket, Along with his backbone and general spirit. Then I'll ask him why he was put in his room, He'll tell me why. He'll apologize and then I let him come back down stairs. Five minutes later he's got me by my hair, Dragging me to the front door and back until I finally get the upper hand and restrain him. Then I run into the kitchen, Close the door, Hold it shut, And sob. I can't STAND the pain of my hair being pulled. I seriously would rather a kick to the jaw. After I have composed myself, I take him upstairs, Remove the Ben 10 DVD and repeat the process.

"And why did mummy have to put you in your room?"

"I pulled mummy"

"And.."

"And sorry"

"You wont pull mummy again will you?"

"Yes"

"No."

"Yes I wont pull mummy again"

"So you wont pull mummy again will you?"

"Yes."

"Right."

By the time his real bedtime arrives, I'm resembling a prostitute after a seven hour shift, Sat under a shower, Shaking and sobbing as the day's rancidness fell down the drain, Gripping my knees as if they were my mum's breasts and I was an innocent, hungry little baby.

I watch some bullshit happyhappy television then fall asleep on the wrong side of 10pm, (8.30pm), And wake with a start as real life drags me away from the very handsome possible terrorist about to sodomise me in the back of an Ice Cream truck, And then it starts.

"I think those Coco-Pops would taste a lot better if you took them OUT of your nose and put them INTO your mouth."