Tash.jpg

Well hello there...

Welcome to my blog. Brb... I'm making memories (read as: Wine. I'm going to get some wine...)

Let's get back to that...

I am 33 years old. Turty Tree and a Turd. Yes, I regularly bathe in Llama placenta and L’Oreal anti-wrinkle cream.

However, I don’t think I have felt more immature in my whole life. Maybe immature is not the right word. Lets make it… playful.

Do you remember how we used to play when we were 10 years old? I would love to do that again! Things are just way too serious now. And no, I cannot live vicariously through my children because I don’t have any anklebiters! (Can you grow them in a Petri dish yet? Not? Ok, still not interested!)

We used to play Red Light/Green Light! Baha what a daft game… I tried this the other day. I yelled “RED LIGHT!” *points at feet* at someone randomly walking down the passage, at first they looked alarmed like a deer in the headlights, then they just looked at me like I was retarded and kept walking… well they did a funny walk / run thing! “Oiiiiiii I said that was a red light you eeeeejit!!” *walks off shaking head disgusted like*

And kissing touches, remember that! Chasing each other around trying to avoid the dreaded smooch! And when the boy you liked was “on” you’d run a bit slower like an injured giraffe (just as graceful – see previous post if you don’t belieffffff!). See now, you couldn’t play that with random people now without:

a) Being at a party where you have to put your car keys in a hat b) Landing your arse in divorce court! Or, c) Ending up with a serious case of herpes

Cops and Robbers! Lurrrrved it! Upon hindsight now though, I would definitely change the noise my gun used to make. Mine was a real pissy “peeuw peeuw” … now after being FORCED at gun point by Dalekins to play Call of Duty, I reckon I would do a bit of a mix-up “dadadadada-da-da-da” *tosses grenade* dadadadadadada…. *blows down barrel* (Tough being a cop these days – apparently grenades are needed?)

I remember how my friend David and I used to play. We used to climb on the roof all the time and “spy” on people. We were sure the neighbour was a dodgy murderer! As you do. Now…? You’d get up there, after much grunting (and inwardly thinking that you are almost 100% sure you have arthritis in your bum) and say “God in heaven when last were these gutters cleaned!” and that’s just before you’d fall straight through your roof tiles and break your head!

I remember us painting something once, can’t imagine what though seen as we were like erm 8 (who would put 8 year olds in charge of painting anything I ask you! So we either FOUND something random to paint, think it was a drawer, ORRRRR I am starting to have flashbacks of being sold into slavery by my parents to the Dulux factory!! (remind me to investigate that!).

Anyhoo, I delicately touched the tip of my small paintbrush that was now full of white sticky paint onto Davids arm and thought this was hee-larious. David then promptly took the big roller HE had been using and rolled it right down my face.

*blink*

*blink*

Now let me give you a tip here: Paint + Face + Turpentine = MY FACE IS ON FIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRE!!!!!

Now if you did that today, with the paint we have now, your face probably WOULD catch fire!

Hide-and-Seek! Maaaan we used to play that ALL the time, and in one small little bedroom, 5 kids could easily evade being spotted. Now I can’t even pretend to hide behind a curtain without Dalekins saying “your bum cheeks sticking outtttttttt!” Pffffft.

I want to play in the mud again.

Let’s get back to that…

Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun

Hobby Shmobby