Sneaky little tooth.
I swear he was showing no signs whatsoever of teething - well, that I paid any attention to, poor little ginger - and the next he's screaming the house down. Of course, even then it took roughly 4 hours for me to wonder, stick my finger in his gob and find a tooth. Woops. Ah well. Now that I'm paying attention, he's pretty well text book - off his food, sleeps are up the spout, grizzly, needy, chomping on whatever he can (except teething stuff - apparently he is of the 'screw the teething toys, I'll just chew the corner of the couch thanks' mind) blah blah. And, er, sporting the tooth of course.
I continue to be in a very ill humour about this ridiculous survey. Very ill indeed. Did I mention it's compulsory? Apparently the only exceptional circumstances under which they'll consider letting you out of it is "if you're dead". Excellent. I did refrain from asking the surveyor, when she offered up that circumstance, what about if she was dead? (We've just dug 5 new vege patch extensions, it might help the rhubard take off, you know?) Even though the kid had been screaming for hours when she turned up for our initial interview and I was feeling spectacularly frazzled and grumpy, I did think that might have been a wee tad agressive. Just a wee tad. Even for a ginger.
So, we have a 7 month old teething (vile), a husband changing shift patterns and jobs (he's going from line maintenance (inspection and defect rectification ... troubleshooting when aircraft arrive into the airport) to heavy maintenance in the hangar) for three months (not as vile as the tooth, but vile nonetheless), and now, this evil survey where we have to detail out everything down to how many sausages we buy at the butcher (exceptionally vile. The vile has given birth to baby viles and the whole damn family of viles and their vague friends from way back live at my house). And of course there's the detailing out of an entire years worth of spending, which apparently includes all payments such as rates, water, mortgage details, you imagine it, we have to detail it. Which also means I have to find the paperwork. !!!
On the bright side though, we've just discovered a wicked toy store quite close which has awesome wooden toys, and it just so happens that Cuinn needs some new toys. What a coincidence!
Short'n'sweet, but a blog post nonetheless.
3 comments:
yay, tooth and toys, awesome. your ma told me that alexis has an amber necklace for teething - met a coupla people on the plane whose kid had one too - they swore by it. too late for our kidmidget tho.
and poop poop poop that you can't say no to the survey thingy. what is this, a dictatorship? your rhubarb, should you have carried out your vague but seriously sensible threat, would have tasted foul BTW - all that bureaucracy mixed with redtape - icky.
good luck with the toys, count them for goodness sakes.
Sure they can force you to take part, but there's nothing forcing you to *ahem* actually count every sausage, is there? Near enough's good enough, and all that.
Seriously... "Correct to the best of my knowledge" gives you a fair amount of leeway, especially when you have better things to do
excellent choice of words - 'correct to the best of my knowledge' - and there's your out. you can seriously stuff up their figures if you play THAT card right - or wrong, depending on how flexible a concept you have of the word 'knowledge.'
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