gelati and bourbon

Today has been a mixed bag - like those old lolly bags you used to get at the milk bar, filled with stuff you loved and stuff you hated, but ate anyway.

Jeez hormones are a bitch hey? They make the mundane truly intolerable. For all concerned. I could tell today that there was a serious problem when I came back from my weekly market + supermarket shop with one green bag half full of goods. Usually I spend a lot and come back laden with delicious treats for the week. Today it was some meat for the cats, some chicken schnitzel for dinner and some juice. Even Mat looked worried as he 'unloaded' it from the car.

The day just got progressively worse. What can I say. A combination of out of whack hormones and long-standing family shit. My mum was meant to take Indi for a few hours, so that my estranged sister could bask in her glory. I actually get excited at the prospect of a few hours sans kid - to get our pigshit house in order and regain some semblance of sanity and peace. I get a call, sister has to leave, mum not taking Indi after all. My house is almost walking with all the micro-organisms that have decided it's a COOL place to live, and then she suggests that she come around. To sit in the pile of shit that has become my house. I politely (!) decline, and then begin rocking in my seat, back and forth, while silently breastfeeding, putting Indi's socks on, fighting off three boisterous kittens and trying to unload the dishwasher. Something had to give. It was a really important bit of my mind. THEN Mat bought a really big and strong bottle of scotch, and THEN we heard the beloved ice-cream man's van coming down the road. I took a really big gulp of my scotch and dry, swallowed, took another really big gulp, fished around in the beautiful red carnival glass dish Mat's mother bought me years ago, the one that holds some spare change for when the ice cream man comes around, and dashed outside, weilding child and coins, and bought Indigo a big gelati, all for herself, and managed to not sway one bit. Another scotch and a few more licks later, all was well, disastrous day turned around miraculously, and with a schnitzel dinner cooked up by my magical wondrous love, and devoured by all and sundry, the day was saved. Even the cats felt it, as they piled around us in kitteny feline love, and fell asleep, as did the aforementioned child, while mama and papa watched a bit of much needed pixelated goodness. Thank the good lord for gelati and bourbon I say.

*note - no bourbon was consumed by aforementioned child in above photo. In fact, a bit of artistic license employed as photo was taken a good six weeks ago when Indi was gifted with not one but two magical mystical icecreams (our leftovers) and rejoiced.

** geez it's hard to type when you've had that one too many scotches.