The Twits

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We interrupt this radio silence to announce that it is only ONE WEEK till we wrestle two very small children across the Atlantic for Christmas, and hurrah, not even one of us is now being sick. I have hopes that this means more ideas for blog posts in the near future. Because today I cleaned out a toilet with washing machine detergent (we’d run out of bleach), and this does not get the creative juices flowing, in case you were wondering.

I am back on Twitter, though. Heaven bless Twitter. I fling disgusting baby fluid stories and cute toddler phrases out like confetti, on Twitter. It doesn’t matter. Twitter loves everything you throw at it. Twitter is the reason I discovered this great post about gender roles in The Hunger Games, and this article about why you’re not dead yet, and this one about why you can’t have it all but you can have cake, and most of all this one about how the hashtag is ruining the English language. I went cold turkey on the hashtag after reading that in September, and keep it on standby for whenever I have a relapse. Giving up the hashtag brought me out in cold sweats.

Stand by for some tweets. Some of them have hashtags, because I am not perfect, ok?

2 August

Look, I know moths say they are peace-loving but I know the truth. That one was just a scout.

Did I tell you the time I trapped one in a toilet and it survived three flushes? PS David Attenborough, if you read this, I’m sorry.


7 August

Just finished #HarryPotter and the Deathly Hallows, and am feeling all the feelings it is possible to feel.

You know, heartbreak. Love. Pride. Revulsion at Voldemort’s confetti head. Hilarity at Ron’s side parting in the epilogue. It’s all going on.

11 August

Wearing sky high heels today to cancel out that flying projectile poop moment this morning. Motherhood mathematics.

13 August

‘No, Henry, that’s not Jesus. It’s Katharine of Aragon.’ Just in case you thought I was raising a history nerd. #mistakenidentity

22 August

No one loves Craig David like Heart Radio. Not even Craig’s mum. #metthisgirlonmonday #cantsingtherestwithoutblushing

Also, whoever called up to request Mambo No. 5 needs to think long and hard about their life choices.

28 September

@mrjeffcoat: ‘Put it in sixth’
Me: ‘I’m afraid of sixth’
@mrjeffcoat: ‘Why?!’
Me:’It’s not normal. It’s like a rogue gear’ #talesfromtheBMW

Me: ‘Look at your car’s angry face in that reflection. Does it make you happy?’
@mrjeffcoat: ‘Yes. It has intense eyebrows’ #talesfromtheBMW

4 October

I’m sorry, but this is the creepiest damn thing I ever saw in a children’s book. #books #loveyouforever

love you forever

6 October

Heard a rumour that if a MoTab song has fewer than three key changes, they all just slam the music down and walk out. #ldsconf

16 October

H asleep on my lap in a towel. Do I wake him up to put a nappy on and end this beautiful miracle, or let him sleep and pee?

‘Let Him Sleep and Pee’ definitely going on autobiography title shortlist.

17 October

P Diddy made me cry tonight is how you can tell I’ve just given up breastfeeding. #thosehormonesaintmessing

25 October

Grim modern tale of middle-aged, inefficient postie manoeuvred into courier position and hopelessly micromanaged by younger boss. [Postman Pat]

WHY IS HE EVEN DELIVERING FRUIT BATS. This is a job for trained zoologist personnel. #thetragedyofpostmanpat

31 October

Whoever taught my son to say ‘I DON’T LIKE IT’ at 150 decibels (*cough* Charlie & Lola), may I offer you my heartiest kick to the face.

5 November

Found, on my side of the bed: two trucks and a poop stain. #toddlers

*adds Two Trucks And A Poop Stain to autobiography title shortlist*

17 November

Old Man at Church: Who was that, you know, she wrote things. With the characters? Agatha Christie? No.
@mrjeffcoat: Enid Blyton?
OMaC: Yes!

..He then followed this by turning to me and saying ‘…Your hair’s like that’. #complimentquestionmark

21 November

I thought Topshop might not be weird anymore, until I went in and there was a sparkly see-through boiler suit.

22 November

Just been ordered around for an hour by shouty Dora the Explorer. Feel like a POW survivor.

SAY BACKPACK, she yelled, face contorted. SAY BACKPACK! LOUDER! SAY IT! Alright, tiny psycho. Take some Valium and cool off a bit.

25 November

John Hurt can do anything. He could run a country with Billie Piper, huffing and rolling his eyes, and I would apply for a passport. #DayoftheDoctor

27 November

I’m sure the question of What Makes You a Boy or Girl will go to deep places one day. For now, my toddler and I have the tangibles covered.

Unfortunately, he wants to discuss them in the supermarket.
#neversaywillyinTesco #justtrustme

And now, as it’s been so long since I wrote something worth reading that it’s actually laughable, I thought I’d top it off with a poll.

2 thoughts on “The Twits

  1. I voted for the first as a book title, but the Postman Pat one is the funniest thing I’ve read all week. Strange thing is I’m _sure_ there was a time when Pat used to be a decent postie. He’d get the mail delivered, help Alf Thompson round up his straying sheep, change the plug on Granny Dryden’s television and re-inflate the tyre on Miss Hubbard’s bicycle, all before lunch and without breaking a sweat on his plastic brow. These days it’s all he can do to deliver one parcel on time, and even then it’s usually smashed, water-damaged or surgically altered by Ted Glen in a clear violation of its extended warranty. Presumably Pat is in financial ruin after missing all the CSA payments for the horde of ginger primary school children that we all know he’s secretly fathered, and the SDS job was the only option, but I’ve never seen so much ineptitude or poor decision management in the space of fifteen minutes. Why you would use a gyrocopter to rescue a cat from the top of a lamp post is beyond me. His carbon footprint must be astronomical.

  2. How is Postman Pat even a postman? I would have fired him years ago. He gets it wrong EVERY time… I’ve realised recently that a LOT of children’s TV programmes are based on ineptitude and being saved at the very last minute…

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