Purple Dragon

Oh, this one is brilliant!

Rate your lesbianity. Seriously!

www.seethru.co.uk/games/quiz/lesbian.htm

Here are my results:

Lezza, whatever. If it moves, you'll consider it. You are either a greedy bisexual, or you are greedy-bisexual-curious. You want to have your cake and eat it. Of course. Why have cake and not eat it? That would be stupid. Make sure you save a piece for me (slut)

Man, this took me AGES! I cannot believe how many times I got questions wrong and had to start from scratch. Great fun!

http://www.carols.org.uk/christmas-quiz.htm

I have an en suite shower. We had a leak that we noticed because of the dark stain that appeared on the ceiling of the entrance hall. Ger decided to investigate, and in doing so, managed to pull about 15 tiles off the shower wall, rendering it unusable.

A short while later, he decided to put the tiles back on. Later that night, I heard a massive clatter as re-attached tiles, having tasted freedom, decided to make a break for it. The tiles still sit in the bottom of the shower cubicle, awaiting the day we get round to calling the handyman to come fix them back up. Alternatively, for the day we can afford the couple of grand it will take to redesign the ensuite how I want it. Not happening

So, we were, as a family, relegated to the family bathroom, which has a shower over the bath, and which had a glass panel to stop the water spraying all over the floor. You might remember that said glass panel nearly removed DS's foot at the ankle a short while ago, necessitating a trip to the local A&E? So - that shower became unusable as well.

We are fortunate in that we have one of those boilers that heats up the water as you use it. I can remember when I was a kid. You would put on the hot water / immersion heater for an hour so you could have a bath, and then Dear Sister would nip in there and use all the water , leaving you either fragrant or sitting waiting for another hour for your turn.

So, we can have baths, to our hearts content. Our we could. Right up until 2 days ago when Rachel was seen wandering off with the bath plug. She put it down somewhere, and you can't really expect a one-year-old to answer the question "Rachel, honey, where's the plug?"

So we've been crouched in the bottom of the bath, washing ourselves with the hand held shower, shivering as our extremities were chilled with the early morning drafts.

I searched every nook and cranny of this house for that damn plug. I've been in every drawer, the bottom of every wardrobe, all the (many, many) pairs of shoes in the bottom of my wardrobe. Under beds, chests of drawers, zipped up suitcases.

After a quick prayer to St Anthony, (patron Saint of lost items), you will be pleased to know that I found the little blighter this morning. In the bathroom. Where I have had every single thing moved, lifted, shaken. There it was.

Now, I was sceptical when my MIL recommended St Anthony as a finder of lost things. Right up until Laura lost Ger's one and only car key for the one and only car I had up here at the time. Sent a prayer up to His Saintedness, and I practically walked straight up to the key which was sitting in an unlikely place on my 2 acres of grass.

This has happened twice with keys and now with the plug - so if you lose anything, and want immediate results, believe me - give it a shot.

What was I thinking??

I have just taken three bored children to Asda, three days before Christmas, alone.

Rachel decided she didn't want in the trolley, and kept climbing out. Not a good idea when you are only 1, and the trolley is way higher than you are using to climbing down from Fortunately, they have a waist strap to tie them in, but Rachel/Houdini was still getting out by wriggling her way up thru the strap. Right up until I pulled the adjuster so tight she probably has a line round her waist now

Laura - oh God don't talk to me about Laura. She was the Child from Hell. You know that kid who is driving everyone mental in the supermarket, running about, throwing themselves on the floor in the front of trolleys, bashing into pepople, sticking their fingers thru the tops of the yoghurt cartons? Well, that was my daughter today. In the end, at the till, she was jumping off the wee window shelf they have, and throwing herself in front of unsuspecting trolleys, so I grabbed her, put her on the shelf and told her that if she moved again, I was gonna leave her there. Bad Momma.

Anthony was marginally better. At least he kept going to find her for me when she did the disappearing act. He still wasn't very biddable though.

Thank God I don't have to go do that torture for another wee while. I'm knackered. Oh, and Nonny - they don't have any Christmas spirit in the Asda in Dyce.