Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Gimme back my stuff
I had boys on purpose.
I could never see myself doing complicated girlything hairstyles, buying two lots of make-up, and I had no wish to share my shoes with anyone. I was not designed for girls and often got cross (after my second boy) when people inquired whether I was trying for a girl.
No. No. No. Girl's were not for me and I had absolute faith in my theory that you got what you were supposed to get. However, there is now a problem.
My jewelery box is half empty. A number of bracelets and necklaces have stupidly migrated past the door to the Pit Of Teenage Desires, and I am left with poor, lonely, odd earrings who will never be re-united with their twins. Beads and bangles have all left home and found new territory on a hairier wrist.
The perpetrator is Big Fecker, jewel thief extraordinaire, capable of stealing my goodies and flaunting them in his earlobe.
I turned a blind eye to my hair products disappearing overnight and laughed heartily when he could do nothing with his newly washed mop that had developed some curls where once there was none. I even ignored him stealing my hats because he had quite a healthy stock for me to pinch
But we do share a love of jewels. Not expensive gold, or precious stones, but trinkets to adorn the holes we have made (I wonder if piercing is genetic?).
I suppose I have to thank the Gods that I have no browbars to nick, or treasures to fill his labret, and I can only hope and pray that he never decides to have his nose pierced - I will be naked!