Milk & Manolos

Ugh. I’m slightly ashamed to say that my mircowave until this morning stunk.

Of course I tried to convince the Husband that the best way forward was for us to reinvest in a new state of the art one, I however was annoyingly reminded that this one was only a year old. Damn. I HATE it when he out smarts me.

So with his list of house chores the length of my arm, I thought I’d don the old rubbers and set about sprucing up the old thing and rather proudly it worked. Excellente, that’s £ 150 for me to spend on sundry fashion items surely ?

So I Listened with Mother, or more aptly To Mother and I set about my mission.

Placing a mug of boiling water with three wedges of lemon lovingly placed inside I set the timer for three minutes and enjoyed my morrning cuppa. Once finished I left it a further 4 minutes for the lemony steam to get to work on those horrible odours and crusty food spills. Enough time for a biscuit too.

Once the hard part was done, I simply set about with my regular anti-bacterial spray and gave the inside a once over, amazed at how easy all the gunk was removed. The turn table went into the dishwasher and Bob’s your uncle, job done.

The Munchkin is following in my footsteps. The Husband is worried. Fortunately he knows not what is round the corner. I do, hence the sleepless nights.

Already at the tender age of two and a half she sees the importance of a good accessory. Handbags and shoes are her thing. With fierce determination and a stubbornness I refuse to recognise in myself she carefully co-ordinates her daily outfits. Once completed her attention turns to the handbag, fully equipped with lipstick, pen and mock phone.

While it’s adorable to discover her tastes, I do harbour concerns that her style gene is yet to develop. Yesterday she looked like what I can only describe as a chav, complete with pony tail high on her head consisting of all of three hairs and looking far more pineapple than anything else.

I couldn’t resist showing her these sweet little numbers in the hope that she’ll eventually put down the pea green faux leather number she’s become rather attracted too. This little lady has a love for unnatural fibres that compares only to that of Kerry Katona, something most definitely to be ironed out at a later date methinks.

Having discovered Sally Shufflepants while diligently scouring the internet I had at first decided to give it a full body swerve due to the name which was far to sickly sweet for me. But putting my fear of the dentist behind me I double clicked and found a truly great place to help keep my present box stacked up …

I fear I may be turning into a snake. All of a sudden my skin has turned horribly dry and scaly, and each time I wake I wonder whether I’ll find the shell of my former self lying next to me. Of course, this could have it’s benefits. If the worst were to happen surely I’d find a wrinkle free me underneath ?

But let’s face it, the likelihood is slim, and fortunately so. Despite the thousands I would make selling my story to the tabloids I would be fit for a freak show.

In a vain attempt to keep my old leathery skin soft and supple I’ve pulled out the big guns. Oh yes, it’s time the Neal’s Yard Avocado oil.

There’s no getting away from the fact that I’m one of the largest fans of these green fruits known to man, so the notion of slathering myself in their nutritious oil is quite a pleasant one. The green hew of it is undoubtedly of small concern, however after years of use I’m yet to see it displayed upon my person.

A heavy oil, it’s not something you’d want to use everyday, but for the boring dryness I seem to get at the change of every season this bids it bon voyage, while keeping me salad fresh.