Happy Mothers Day!

I don’t talk much about my amazing wife ‘The Roobs’ on this blog, so on this Mother’s Day let me prattle on with a few reasons why she’s not only an amazing mother to The Destroyer, but why she’s the most loved woman in our lives.

1: You know how Inuits or ‘Eskimoes’ know about 45 or so different words for snow? Well, The Roobs knows upwards of 24 ways of telling me to, “Piss off ya fat prick” without actually swearing. 5 of those involve the slightest manipulation of her eyebrows, 13 involve somewhat explicit and furious sign language and the remaining 6 involve toy cars of varying size and weight being launched into my usually surprised cranium.

2: She’s very environmentally conscious, to the point where unless the cloth nappy we’ve just bought has been locally sourced and produced by well paid and sustainable crofters pulling wool off the hips of thoroughly massaged ewes, then its the devil’s work.
I’ll be honest, the thought of putting shat covered nappies through the washing machine on a daily basis horrifies me, I’m a terrible recycler. And I only love The Roobs more that she let’s me use disposable nappies when I change the boy whilst she’s stands nearby and quietly wishes she could drive a screwdriver deep into my brain stem.

3: Her cold, dark heart shows barely a pulse when people are shot, murdered or garroted on the telly late at night, but a couple of weeks ago her favourite wooden spoon broke in the middle of stirring a pot, which then prompted three days of mourning and us all having to dress in black for a week.. She’s still missing that spoon.

4: If it was left to me, our son would probably be living like a feral kid, communicating solely in headbutts and forcing us to put a ‘Beware of Dog’ sign on the door to stop the postie putting his fingers through the letterbox in case the boy clamps onto them and death-rolls like a crocodile.
No, thanks in large part to my amazing wife our son is growing up only partially psychotic, polite, respectful and only 35% headbutty. She’s ridiculously supportive of everything the wee man does, he’s fully encouraged to be whoever he wants to be, (although if she had a choice he’d choose to be a magnificent Drag Goddess) and through her constant love he’s confident, sociable and full of smiles and laughter.

We couldn’t be luckier to have The Roobs in our lives, even if it does cost me the occasional concussion or cracked rib. Happy Mothers Day!

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