Good riddance, Monkey

I’ve had a monkey on my back. You know, one of those things that just weighs you down and no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to rid yourself of it? My particular monkey is, not surprisingly, writing related. I know I’ve had some exciting stuff happen over the last 12 months, but I’ve had a secret. It’s not something I’m proud of. It’s something I’ve been trying to overcome – honest! Wanna know what it is? Course you do!

The Orange Balloon

We had tears at our house this evening. No, they weren’t mine – although the dinner/bath/bed routine with three kids under four can sometimes tempt me to break down and cry. No, the tears were from Master Three. After jumping off the couch one too many times, he stepped on his favourite orange balloon. It’s his favourite because it’s his only orange balloon – in fact, it’s his only balloon full stop. The loud POP! was quickly followed by a loud, monotonous wail. He was heartbroken.

The Cringe Factor

There are some things in life that make me cringe. I’m a pretty tolerant person most of the time, but on occasions you will see me visibly shudder. I cringe when people lose the plot in public. I cringe when I see a look pass between a man and woman and sense fear in her eyes. I cringe when people feel the need to put other people down to make themselves look good.  And I cringe at the sight of blue eyeshadow. It takes a fashion icon to get away with it in my opinion. But there’s something else that makes me cringe that might surprise you.