So a small bird has somehow flown into my bathroom, through the 2 inch gap of open window, had a sit on the bath and made a tiny poo, managed not to knock down any toiletries on the sill, or freak out and make a hell of a noise/mess, or fly around the rest of the house in confusion ( the bathroom door was open ), do another poo on my son's stepstool, then leave the premises.
I have no idea how this happened.
In other news, despite being able to get the crankies with the best of them, i'm unsure I could think of 25 things that shit me to tears.
As long as people don't touch my stuff and always put things back in the space where they got them from/where they belong, and don't force me to see rellies i'd rather not be related to, i'm pretty fine.
But this last week has alerted me to a new one:
When selecting your drink from the shop/cafe/deli whatever, choose carefully.
When you pick some horrid berry-flavoured confection that your mother cannot STAND, be sure you do not want to swap with her carefully chosen apple juice/plain icecream.
Especially after she has asked you a 1000x if you are not sure you would like the same drink/icecream/whatever as her.
Or if perhaps the apple juice might be more suitable.
Because her unborn baby is starving.
Due to having every morsel of food/drink snatched from her in the interests of "sharing", and I get left with sticky, inedible berry-flavoured ( I HATE fruit-flavoured things unless it's citrus or melon. ) treacle-coated kiddie-crap.
Also, when I make toast/a sandwich/ whatever and you say "no" when asked if you would like the same, or even answer "YUK!", which is even more charming ... do not whine and ask where YOUR toast/sandwich is when I arrive with mine*
* Actually, i'm good at this one, I just make extra regardless.
My husband however, almost blows steam out of his ears when the boy blatantly lies and snivvels 'I said YES! YES!' and then proceeds to eat his.
It's a good life.