I’d had an uneasy feeling for a while to be honest. Things hadn’t been quite going to plan. B was a little agitated with it all and I was feeling very much alone. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it (although later that option was offered).

And then it hit me. Literally. Right between the eyes. A stream of warm milk, massaged not so gently from the nipple of a guinea pig, situated about 11 inches from my face.

I immediately discarded my cappuccino.

We’re back, people. Back at the sexist farm based toddler group that B attends once a week Sins of the father…. I wouldn’t have minded but it wasn’t even guinea pig week. The guinea pig had babies and teacher thought the kids would like to see them. They did.

She also thought the kids would like to see mummy guinea pig’s mammary glands and what they could muster. They didn’t. Although I think B was fairly impressed that Mrs guinea pig’s norks produced a better jet than Daddy’s Karcher pressure washer.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, she asked me to hold one of the babies and take it around the kids for them to stroke. She asked for volunteers. Loads of mums were keen. Hands were raised. I didn’t raise mine. Perhaps she confused my efforts to clear the remaining smears off my glasses for enthusiasm but either way I certainly didn’t volunteer.

However, I had to spend the next four minutes desperately hoping my involuntary hand spasm didn’t return (it’s stress related you know) otherwise I would have had some serious explaining to do.

It has been a stressful week, thanks for asking.

cola bottles

Mrs DB has been under the weather, had acute bacterial tonsillitis (she told me to be 100% clear on this) and I’ve been flying solo for much of the week. G ate chalk from B’s easel and B thought it was a good idea to drink water from the water butt. However, we all survived.

So, this all made Mrs DB’s first Mother’s Day something of a washout for the poor old dear. Suffice to say she didn’t appreciate the packet of fizzy cola bottles we got her as a present (too scratchy apparently) but at least she’s on the mend. She’s looking forward to next week’s “Farm Friends” as apparently we’re doing animal castration.

Think I’ll give that one a miss.


Chaps and chapesses… it gives me great pleasure to know that people are reading my ranting and ravings but due to our situation we have to be very careful with security issues. Therefore, whilst I really appreciate lovely comments and encouragement could I please sound slightly ungrateful and ask that people don’t comment on my posts in anyway which may suggest who we are or that we are connected. Likes, shares and donations of money would be much appreciated but my being able to continue to do this is dependent on me being any to keep my nearest and dearest safe. Thanks muchly.


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