We terrorized her with an earthquake hoax

Cracked groundI’m a horrible daughter. And I have a tendency to lead my nieces and nephews astray.  I’m the bat-poop crazy aunt that all the kids love; the same aunty that terrifies their parents.  I’ve written blog posts about the atrocious things my children have done in the name of fun; and I’m starting to realise they may get it from me! If it’s genetic, it’s my parents fault, not mine.

One holiday weekend we were staying on my brother’s cattle farm in the Australian countryside. My mum has a caravan on his farm that she sleeps in when we visit.  It gives her peace and quiet away from all of her grandkids, as she’s now in her 70’s.

I took the kids shopping one day, and on the way back to the farm, I told them stories about how Nanny was “absolutely terrified” of earthquakes. They were all roaring with laughter.  It was during this trip that I hatched a clever scheme … one that would give us all a good laugh if it went according to plan.  I devised that when Nanny went for her afternoon nap in the caravan, I would gather the kiddies all together and we would surround the caravan, then start gently rocking it from side to side.  I had them convinced that if it woke Nanny up, she would think it was an earthquake!  I had them in hysterics in the car, and they were begging me to “do it today Aunty Cath!”

It just so happened that as soon as we arrived back on the farm … you guessed it … Nanny was in the caravan, fast asleep.

I gathered all the children around me like a mother hen and told them that even though they were laughing hysterically, we had to be very quiet or Nanny would know it was us!  One of the oldest children’s job was to hide behind the car and use their mobile phone to film Nanny coming out of the caravan. The rest of them then surrounded the van, and I had my burly strong sons on the corners to get that van a rockin’.

I counted … one, two, three, GO! … and they put their shoulders to the metal sides and put all the strength their little bodies could muster into starting a rhythm. It began to gently sway, then the biggest grandkids got that van shaking from side to side.  They were red-faced and having the time of their lives.  We heard a noise inside, but true to their word, they kept that van rocking.

Suddenly – the caravan door burst open, and Nanny flew through the opening screaming “E A R T H Q U A K E!”.  She ran down the steps and bolted for her life, completely disoriented.  By this time, the kids were screaming with laughter.  Nanny saw the older child duck behind the car with their camera in hand, and as she looked around and gathered her bearings, noticed her beloved grandchildren’s heads popping around the caravan, all roaring and screaming with laughter and love, having the time of their lives.

She put her hands on her hips, and bellowed at the top of her lungs … “CATHY!”

Why do I get the blame for everything? And how did she know it was me?

© 2015 CEW

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When you lose your beloved dog

Beautiful cavalier king charles spanielA dog is not just a dog.  And if you are a dog-lover, you will know what I mean.  This is George, my little boy. My baby.

I was shocked when he jumped on my bed one morning.  He hadn’t done that for a few months and his health had declined through the week.  Oh, he’d had such a hard, hard life.  Before he was one year old he’d had his first major leg operation.  He ended up having 3 leg surgeries over the next few years, 2 of them were major reconstructions.  He developed an auto-immune disease which caused large scabs to break out on his face.  He had a severe allergy to all proteins, so was on a special diet.  And because he was on cortisone, as well as other pain killers twice a day, we knew his life would be shortened.  But we loved him, and to us, being pain free and happy meant more than anything.  It meant he wouldn’t live a long life, but it would be a good life!

So, he jumped on my bed for a morning cuddle, which really shocked me.  I stroked him lovingly.  I’d had him at the vet the night before as he hadn’t eaten for four days – since our house flooded from a burst pipe.  Like I loved to do, I leaned over him and kissed the top of his head.  I buried my nose in his fur.  How I absolutely loved the smell of the top of his head!  After five minutes he tried to jump down but couldn’t, so I gently lowered him to the floor.  He still wasn’t well but at least he ate something the night before.

I went to work after checking him and left him asleep on the couch, head nestled on his favourite cushion.

At work I noticed I’d missed four calls from my son.  I quickly rang him.  He said he’s just arrived home from fishing and George was really sick.  He’d vomited all around the house and had severe diarrhoea.  I rang the vet to say George was on his way with my son.  He was put on a drip and admitted to hospital for tests.  I rang the vet throughout the day and kept getting updates.  I prayed for him, but just couldn’t leave work early as we had international visitors.  I was in a dilemma.

Our George was a fighter and he’d come through everything life had thrown at him so far.  I knew he’d pull through this too.  The vet rang me when I got home from work to say he was sedated and comfortable, but he was a very sick boy.  They were closing so I couldn’t pop in to see him until morning.

I waited for the vet’s morning call to say I could go and visit my George.  I just needed to know he was ok.  I ran to the ringing phone and couldn’t wait to hear about my baby.  “Hi Cathy. {pause} George didn’t make it through the night.  I’m so sorry.”  I sat on the end of my bed.  Stunned.  It couldn’t be true.  I didn’t get to say goodbye.  I wasn’t prepared.  But like all mothers do, I pulled myself together so I could tell my husband and my sons.

I went to the vet to bring my boy home, where he belonged.  The vet nurse lovingly laid him in my arms in a little white body bag.  I drove him home from the vets for the last time.  With a face covered in tears I kissed the top of the bag where his head was and breathed in deeply.  I just wanted to smell his head, just one last time.  I couldn’t’ smell him.

My husband, sons and I stood together around the mandarin tree and laid our boy to rest.

I now live with the guilt that I didn’t say goodbye to my little man.

“I’m so sorry Georgie.  I didn’t realise that last cuddle you gave me that morning on my bed was you actually saying goodbye to me.  I will treasure that moment forever.  I will see you again one day.  With Max, Winky, Kizzy, Chrissy, and all my little boys and girls that I’ve loved over the years.  RIP my little brave man.”

George died on 24th January 2015.  Forever loved.

 © 2015 CEW

Originally posted on my old blog site

 

My first big, bold and beautiful tattoo!

beautiful tattoo of rose and clock

I did it!  MY FIRST TATTOO

Big, bold and utterly beautiful … I love it!

What it means to me …

  • The clock represents time … the most beautiful “times” in my life, when my two sons were born
  • There are 4 hands, representing the times my boys were born, 4.32 and 11.40
  • The one red rose represents one family, and “Love”
  • I have my sons names tattooed on each side of the clock {which I Photoshopped out to protect them, as they would hate me broadcasting their names on my blog}

Did it hurt?  Oh yeah, it hurt like hell

Would I do it again?  You betcha

Where’s my husband’s name?  Well, if he ever trades me in for a younger model I don’t want his name on me!  Okay, I will get his name somewhere … soon

SO WHAT DO YOU THINK?

© 2015 CEW

 

When you eat chocolate, but it’s really poo …

Plate full of delicious chocolatesChocolate and poo are on opposite ends of the gourmet spectrum {even though one turns into the other … eventually!}  I know this is a topic that may turn your stomach, but some stories just must be told!  And I should thank my husband, at this point, for being the best “blog material” around.

He has been known to “steal” chocolate from our children; and they have grown up with the knowledge that if their Dad can see it, it’s fair game.  So, they now hide all chocolate from him.  He even sleep-walks to the fridge and eats chocolate when he’s unconscious.  Truly!  {My post “I married a scary sleepwalking zombiewill enlighten you about his night-time antics!}

But one Easter, Karma paid a visit to the big chocolate thief.

Our son was a toddler at the time and was walking around the house eating his nice tasty Easter Egg, dropping much of it and leaving chocolate bits across the floor.  A bit like “Hansel and Gretel” leaving a track of bread crumbs to follow.  Like a starved sniffer-dog his Daddy was following him eating the chocolate trail.  But son didn’t just drop chocolate bits.  Unbeknownst to his Dad, a little poo land-mine escaped from his pants and landed amongst the chocolate pebbles.

I watched as my husband’s eyes bulged and his salivating tongue lolled out when he honed in on the largest brown nugget yet.  Like a seagull on a hot chip he swooped in and threw the brown morsel into his mouth, moaning with desire as he began to munch it and swoosh it around his teeth.  He froze.  Silence.  His face turned to one of horror as he leapt towards the kitchen sink, bent forward and began barfing into the bowl.  I ran to him, eyes watering, as I smelt a puff of his poo-breath when he screamed “THAT’S NOT CHOCOLATE!”  Oh, how we reap the seeds we sow.

Lesson:  “Just because it looks like chocolate … doesn’t mean it is!”

© 2015 CEW

Originally posted on my old blog site

Image courtesy of stockvault-chocolate138839

 

 

Shocked by the call girl who rang me

Lips with bright red lipstickThere’s one thing a woman never wants to hear when she picks up the phone …

“Hello, I’m Jenny and I work for an escort agency. I’m sorry to ring you but I need to speak to you about a call I received from your phone number last week.”

I was speechless. I had no idea how to respond, so I just said really slowly “Okay.”

I withdrew into my bedroom and shut the door so my children wouldn’t hear the call. Then she told me the news.

She received a couple of calls from my phone the previous week asking the prices of certain services. She said she is a mother too, and when she realised it was a “little boy” on the phone, and there was another one in the background giggling, she decided to let me know. Lucky for me, our phone number was displayed on her system.

She finished by saying “I just thought you might like to know.” Bless her little cotton socks – I wanted to know alright! I’ve never met a call girl or escort or prostitute or brothel worker, and I was so very, very grateful that she cared enough to ring me. She sounded absolutely lovely on the phone. I couldn’t thank her enough.

Now it was time to deal with those two rascals of mine.

I called the boys together and sat them down, and told them about the call I’d just received from the nice lady on the phone. They both confessed and said they were just joking and promised they’d never do it again.

However, Son 2 tried to win some brownie points and show how intelligent they were and said:-

“Don’t worry Mum, we didn’t use our phone. We used your work phone!”

WHAT???? They used a Government phone! To ring an escort agency! And now there was a record of it!

I was shame-faced as I reported my boys’ actions to the CEO of the Government Department I was working for at the time. He couldn’t help but bellow with laughter – because he has sons – and knows all too well the antics they are capable of.

Disaster averted.

© 2015 CEW

Image courtesy of <a href=’http://www.freepik.com/free-vector/i-love-lipstick_799058.htm’>Designed by Freepik</a>

The evil prank that stopped my husband’s heart

Terrifying black deadly snakeYou DON’T want to hear from your child … “Mum, if we tell you something, will you promise not to get us into trouble?” Oh Lord, what had my 12 and 14 year olds done when I was out shopping? The boys and my husband were extremely quiet, and there was a tense atmosphere in our home. Something, not good, had definitely gone down.

I thought for a moment, looked at both boys, and slowly said “Okay. I’m sure if you’ve done something wrong Dad would have dealt with it. What have you boys done now?”. {When I came home from shopping I asked Husband what was wrong as he looked like a grizzly bear that had eaten vinegar. He put up his hand and shook his head. I knew he wasn’t able to speak. Ohhhh; it must be REALLY bad and I’d find out eventually. It looked like the time was now.}

Sons sat opposite me at our kitchen bench and told me what they had done to their Dad … this time!

We live opposite a lot of land that has cattle on it, and in the summer we must be careful of snakes coming into our residential estate. In Australia in summer, we can get days as hot as 40 degrees (which is 104 Fahrenheit), and a week of this weather can be very stressful. This extremely hot day, sons went for a ride on their scooters around the block and found a dead snake on the footpath. They explained to me that they used the front wheel of their scooter and “sawed” the snake’s head off so they wouldn’t get hurt with the dead snake’s fangs and venom, put the snake’s body on their scooter, then sneaked it home. Just so you know, Australia has some of the deadliest snakes in the world!

I started to break out in a sweat, because when their colluding little heads get together it usually means one thing only – trouble!

Son explained that when they got home, they put the snakes body around the paint tins in our garage, so that when their dad went outside he would think there was a snake in the garage. They thought it would be funny.

Our garage is a bit like their man-cave. When the garage door is up the view is incredible, looking over the green wedge; and as far as the eye can see, there are no houses to block the beautiful panoramic view of the mountains in the distance. It’s the perfect place to contemplate the day, or even just relax in a peaceful space.

Son continued to tell me the story: “So dad went into the garage and we followed him. He saw the snake and put his arms out so we wouldn’t get close and he yelled out “SNAKE!” We said “Don’t worry Dad, we’ll save you” and we ran past him into the garage.”

Apparently Big brother picked up the snake by the tail and swung it around like it was a lasso then let it go and flung it into the paddock across the road.

When they turned around, laughing their noggins off, their father looked like he was having a seizure! He couldn’t even speak to them as he was stuttering, and grasping his chest. He couldn’t comprehend what he’d just seen. Sons, still laughing, said “It’s alright Dad, it was dead! We cut it’s head off before we bought it home!” They burst out laughing before realising their Dad did not find it one bit funny. All he could think of was his boys put themselves in grave danger and he couldn’t fathom it was another one of their pranks.

They sat in front of me and finished their story. Both of them were shame-faced.

I looked from Son 1 to Son 2, and couldn’t speak. I kept my lips clamped together and the pressure build up caused my face to turn bright red. I couldn’t hold it in any longer, and roared with laughter. How could I get them into trouble.

It was sheer brilliance!

© 2015 CEW

Originally posted on my old blog site

 

He should be arrested for this!

Man wearing black business sock white shoes and shortsI thought it was just our local priest who wore socks and sandals.  I’d sit in church and notice Father Joe’s feet and think it was a statement in humility, that “Maybe he was trying to dress like Jesus”.  But I think not now.  It think it’s just … men.  I don’t mean to offend the male species but do they lose their dress sense as they lose their hair?

I include my own husband in this category now.  His hair is thinning as his fashion sense is waning.  This picture I’ve posted is my husband and how he wears his socks some weekends.  I kid you not!  I’d look down at his ridiculous pulled-up business socks with shorts and say in a high pitched squeak “Are you serious?”  He’d look down and say “What?”

I posted this photo of his calf-length black socks and weird-white-pointy-walking shoes accessorised with his nice big shorts on Facebook once and asked my friends “Is it just my husband, or do others have no idea either?”  The response was that my female friends felt my agonising paaaain.  And my male friends?  They couldn’t see anything wrong with it!

One humiliating week day my husband went to pick our teenage sons up from high school. He turned up early, got out of his car and leaned back onto the hood with his arms crossed in a relaxed pose.  Slick … except he was clod in his customary black socks pulled up his pins with his long black billowing shorts and white pixie shoes!   Son No. 2 and a friend walked out of class and noticed his Dad … in his “pet” socks.  Son quickly glanced left and right and contemplated a quick getaway. His friend laughed and said “Isn’t that your Dad?”  Son hesitated and almost denied him.    But instead {long slow sigh} “Yep … that’s him”.

So I ask you.  Is it just me or should this look be illegal? What is it with men and socks?

© 2015 CEW

Originally posted on my old blog site