While Kelley is off having her girly sleepover Murphy has had nobody to pester, so this morning he came knocking on my door.
I hate Murphy.
For a start, I think Guera from Roaming Aussie Mum was right. I think the paed has been reading my blog and I don’t think he has enjoyed the context very much.
Humble apologies paed. I have to get it off my chest somewhere.
This morning, after Ivy had a tragic night, what do I find?
Blisters!
More bl**dy blisters!
ARRRRRRRGHHHHHHH!
Poor baby.
Stupid Murphy.
Ivy is sad and sore, Noah is being an ASB (attention seeking behaviour) queen…I mean…prince. The big kids are bored and rude, David is in disbelief and he has hayfever, therefore, he will need a nanna nap soon (because stress makes him tired) all because I relaxed and started to think, nay gloat that all was going to be good.
All is not good.
I am stressed out and have taken on the appearance of a screaming banshee, hair a flurry, glowing green eyes, gnashing teeth, arms flailing, screaming my high pitched horrible noise to anyone who befalls my path.
How do you kill Murphy?
