Kiddie Kennel

So today we tried to tell our increasingly cheeky four year old that if he doesn't behave we will call up kiddie kennels and they will come and pick him up.

Big mistake! After half an hour of trying to make it sound like a bad place without adding too much details (and thus giving away the fact that there is no such place as kiddie kennels ((why not, btw??))), we ended up telling him that his aunt (husband's younger sister) knows all about it as she had been there long ago, and sprog should ask her. This was as a last resort as he thought the idea quite quaint and was almost ready to pack his bags, as long as we could tell him more, MORE, MORE! Needless to say that our little ruse backfired as all we poor harrassed parents really wanted was ten minutes of peace. Ninny, his aunt, did not really have to uphold her end of the deal as suddenly the interest waned. NOT FAIR!!!!

Anyway, I mother, hereby declare that I broke my son's Christmas present this morning. Last seen alive in the picture above, the yellow watergun is now broken. I obviously was not meant to shoot a fountain THAT high and the weak interior pipe bust and, redfaced, I had to apologise to my son. I told him that normally this is what HE should be telling ME while I cultivate a reprimanding face. Luckily my apology was accepted without too much grovelling. Luckily he was given two waterguns, but I have now been banned from "playing" with that one.

So anyway, in the picture above, you will notice that we are all a bit nutty, as the water courses goes straight up Callum's nose and it is a self-inflicted nasal drainage caught on camera. I sent it off to the local newspaper who promise R100 for the best photo of the week, a voucher I will use to take sprog and hubby out for dinner, should the "nosejob" win. Oh, by the way, Callum is not, as he may appear in the photo, a mono brow, he (and the rest of the nutty family) was sporting traditional boxing day face paint. A present from his other aunt. She paid for that one with a huge red blob on her immaculate carpet, hehehe.

More nutty news soon.

Blerry Hadeda's

The Taj Mahal (aka Christmas tree with hanging/draping tinsel and glitter balls) is up in our lounge. My word, it sure does light up the lounge and cramp my style. The sprog has been informed that the sickly sweet Christmas tunes that come as *added* feature on the lights may only wail on for five minutes a day, lest mom goes moggy.

This morning while I was writing my bi monthly geek article http://witnessgeek.blogspot.com/ , I got seriously put out by Maritzburg's cheekiest Hadeda. Not a meter away from my chair, just on the porch where Shaggy (feline member of the family) has his feeding grounds, the trespass quare clausum fregit Hadeda helped himself to Shaggy's leftovers. The distrinctive pick-pick-pick gives him away (as a non cat intruder) so I thought I would give him a good lesson. I snuck out the door and with a starjump and a big WHOOOP I not only sent the Hadeda over to the neighbours at an almost horizonal angle, I also proceeded to give Shaggy such a fright that the literally fell off his perch on top of the outside table.

I blame Ma (gran in granny flat) for these misbehaving Hadedas as she has spent many hours feeding them dog cubes and enticing them to poo poo on the porch amongst other despicable Hadeda businesses (i.e. unwanted 4am wakeup services). Just in case you are going to send the SPCA around: are there any cat/Hadeda food donours out there who don't mind feeding the entire neighbourhood?

In that event I rest my case and will double Shaggy's rations.