And so I am being dragged kicking and screaming, by the hair backwards, through a hedge by wild horses, in the form of JB (Super) Mum of One, back into the land of the blogging. Jennifer, who is wantful of lovely shoes and a gorgeous red dress (among other things), has tagged me in a meme called Want. I simply have to state my wants. Piece of cake, right? OK, straight off the top of my head….
1. A piece of cake.
2. A wooden rocking horse when I was a little girl. Is retrospective allowed? Oh alright, let Bibsey have the pony. I will settle for…
3. A car that flies and also turns into a hovercraft. I am thinking less Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and more standard issue for 007. I don’t need the license to kill. Erm, scratch that last. I would like…
4. A license to kill. Just in case.
5. A personal shopper with cash in package. This way I would never have to step inside a shop changing room ever again nor worry about how I might pay for all the clothes that neither fit nor suit me.
6. Someone to come and muck out my house for me, and deal with what lurks at the bottom of the wash basket, and then I promise that I will keep on top of it.
7. Likewise, someone to come and sort out my body for me and then I promise that I will keep on top of it.
8. Speaking of my body, I would like a few of the little niggles that I have, concerning my feet, teeth, arm/wrist and arse, to please resolve themselves without any tangling with medical professionals.
9. A tame hairdresser.
10. Zigazig ah… to be less shallow perhaps. I don’t know. Looking at this list would you say that this last is a valid entry?
I promised a stream of consciousness. This is more like a stream of urine. Sorry for that. Thank goodness I set a mental limit at ten. Who’s next? Older Mum and Scribbler in Seville.
