There’s a Gary Larson Cartoon (I measure my life in GL cartoons) with a kid in a classroom raising his hand, saying “May I be excused, my brain is full.” I have become that kid; not because my brain is in fact full, but rather it has shrunk so much that it feels full.
As well as having nothing to say to anyone that isn’t child-related, the bit of my brain which deals with non-parenting issues has, I suspect, atrophied to such an extent that it no longer functions properly. This can be the only explanation for the many less than intelligent things I do on a daily basis. A selection from this week includes:
- Leaving my house keys in the front door. Overnight.
- Leaving my house keys on the front windowsill. Outside. For the morning.
- Leaving my house keys in the buggy. At the kids’ nursery.
- Leaving my house keys in the Man’s coat pocket, while he went off for a walk with the kids, and I stood on my doorstep shouting at the inside of my handbag.
- Putting woollens in a hot wash. Twice. In one day.
- Putting eggs at the bottom of the shopping bag. And then, having seen that they were all broken, putting them into the fridge anyway.
- Ringing someone and completely forgetting, by the time they answered, who it was I calling, and having to hang up.
- Putting onions on to sautee, then wandering off in a daze and half an hour later, as I was sorting through baby clothes, wondering (a) what the smell was and (b) why the smoke alarm was going off.
- Making boiled eggs. But forgetting the water. (So, not so much boiled, as shell-on-pan-fried)
Lest you think that the parenting part of my brain is bulked up, like a cyclist’s Yellow-Jersey-winning muscles, rest assured – my stupidity knows no boundaries. And so this week I have learnt the following:
- Do not Google: “tiny blue dot on baby’s scalp”, before checking to see if it washes off. Ink is alot easier – and less traumatic – to remove (not to mention fret about) than Melanocytic Nevus.
- Do not snuffle into your baby’s flabby neck, unless you’ve wiped under the neck-flaps first. (Indirectly, I also learnt that neck-cheese isn’t so tasty.)
- Always do a head-count before you start the car. Three isn’t such a hard number to remember. If there’s only 2 – well, one might be in her car-seat on the pavement.
- If your son asks something, and you’re not quite sure what he said, always assume it’s a question to which the only answer is “no”. Unless you want (a) a long protracted argument, and (b) - (notwithstanding (a)) - ice-cream on your sofa.
And now my brain really is feeling full, and I must go lie down.