The
Good
I got a doctor’s appointment!
We go to Europe in less than 2 weeks!
I’m not covered in blisters!
We go to Europe in less than 2 weeks!
I’m not covered in blisters!
The
Bad
The Girl is sick sick sick. It is,
of course, entirely my own fault, for having mused, aloud, on Monday about our
good fortune in none of them being really sick (leprosy aside) since we got
here. That, and the Man’s travelling
schedule this week, ensured a human furnace as my bed-fellow these past 3
nights. I’d never seen a thermometer with
a 40.7 reading before. Who knew? Tropics Schmopics.
OhGodOhGod, the nightmare that is
packing for, and travelling with, children.
I cleverly packed away all their “European” clothes (so called to make
them sound chic; in fact they’re just
warm) when we got here, to ease the hell of packing. Totally forgetting, of course, that children
grow like weeds. Nothing fits. (Actually, not true; the Boy’s fit the Girl, and the Girl’s fit
the Baby – how??? - but neither will allow their younger sibling
ownership of “their” clothes.) So at some
point, as well as the sickness and the packing and the panicing and the not
sleeping, I have to find a shop here that sells stuff with long sleeves, which
is not made out of polyester. Not as
easy as it sounds.
The
Ugly
Older people in Singapore – possibly
throughout Asia – are called / referred to
as “Auntie / Uncle” by children .
So the old man who clears plates at the hawker market is an uncle (I
would have thought he was more of a great-grandmother, but let’s not get too
technical), and the older – tho not so ancient – women who help on the school
buses are Aunties. Last week TWO children referred to me, in SEPARATE INCIDENTS, as “Auntie”. Jesus Christ.
Yes, I am somebody’s auntie (many in fact), but JESUSCHRIST kids... Seriously?
So anyway, I was so traumatised that I booked self in for some Fraxxelling.
Basically you get your skin lasered off, and then new skin, the skin of a baby
unicorn, eventually appears from within your cocoon of scabs. At
least that’s what I was expecting. And
frankly, for the cost, that is what anyone should expect. Except there were no scabs. No new baby
skin. Really - no difference whatsoever.
Then some little fucker said “excuse
me Auntie” at the petrol station today.
Next Week: I go gift shopping. (Spoiler alert: Singapore is shit for buying stuff.)
I'd heard great things about fraxel, but dont you need a few treatments before you start to shine? I had IPL done a few years ago and for about a week I looked like id fallen asleep in the sun while wearing baby oil!
ReplyDeleteAaahh, a cocoon of scabs. That sounds simply divine!
ReplyDeleteI hate being referred to as Miss Simply. Call me Miss LastName is fine but I worked with a chick who kept trying to call me Miss Simply until I said "bitch, you are not my help, you are my colleague, knock that off".
ReplyDeleteI'm used to the "ma'am" thing, unfortunately.