Not The Best Housewife

Have I mentioned lately that I am not the best housewife? Well I'm not. 

Don't get me wrong, I do get the housework done and then the hoard rush in like a stampede dropping and tossing as they fly through. I do the laundry and I swear the basket magically fills itself as I hang the last load out. Cooking can sometimes be a chore. Trying to think of some amazing new creation that would rival a MKR contestants.

Gone are the days where you had 8 maybe 9 staple meals you rotated for variety. Nope these days they walk in and say what's for dinner expecting an amazing new creation all done on a tight budget.

All of these I do.. Well I mostly keep up with. But the one chore I detest more than any of the others is mending. Pulling up hems, putting buttons back on(5 minutes after buying the damn thing). Fixing up tears and rips. You name it I hate it with a passion. I have been known to throw perfectly good jeans out because it was either that or someone had to die that day if I had to pick up a needle and thread.... Ok so that is a little exaggerated, but you get my point. When it comes to mending. I am so Not Frugal.

I am having a break from yet another pair of jeans needing taking up. What is with shops not having short leg jeans! There are more short people than there are tall so why isn't there a small section in the shops dedicated to us short arses? (Pun intended). I wear heeled boots with my jeans just so I don't have to bring them up.

This morning I have managed to prick my self several times, and that just with the other leg I keep dragging across my knee. I don't look anything like those ladies look in the romantic old time movies where the 'little lady' is sitting by the fire placidly mending away looking nothing but serene. 

No, I look like a runaway from the local mental ward for the criminally insane. Muttering away angrily to myself. Hair pushed aside from the umpteenth time of rubbing my hand across my face in frustration at pricking myself again and again with the blasted needle. There's not an ounce of serenity about.. Unless you think my sinister smile as I am busy plotting  a gruesome end to said pair of jeans in my lap still looks quite serene. At which point I will just say. I'll save you a seat on the short bus. The window seat and fluffy white hugme jacket are mine but!


No it's safe to say I am NOT the best housewife.