I am an auntie once again! My younger sister has given birth to a beautiful baby girl. She is fifty parts adorable and seven parts fatty mashaAllah. She is beautiful and chubby and edible. Sister is still recuperating in hospital and with her permission may post some pics later.
Our home is unofficially The Emesis House. 6 year old had to come home early from school yesterday and he has been miserable and nauseous all day today. It’s probably a mild viral thing but please keep him in your duas.
Husband: When my sister was much younger, she suffered terrible travel sickness but you know what finally cured her?
Tasmiya: Go on. Tell me.
Husband: She put newspaper down her shirt so it was in contact with her skin.
Tasmiya: No joke? And that cured it? No vomiting or nausea?
Tasmiya: What was the name of the newspaper?
Husband: I’m pretty sure it was The Placebo Times.
I have many emails to respond to and please forgive my tardiness all those checking their outlook express on the hour ie. all of you (!) I do still love you all. It’s not you, it’s me etc etc. When all settles down here at home I will be back to emailing and blogging, you lucky ducks.Â In the interim, may I suggest a good book – (Wilkie Collins is my favourite author of the moment) and a nice hot cup of cocoa for those suffering blistering cold and a peach iced tea for those sweltering in the northern hemisphere.
I am considerably socially inept. I have trouble saying the right things and when I realise I am saying something inappropriate, in my desperate attempt to make myself understood, I just keep on talking which invariably causes the worsening to increase exponentially. The worst part is I never learn.
This afternoon on my trip to pick up my 6 year old from school, I was approached by a wonderful young lady asking me if I would like to participate in a survey by having my son assessed by an education expert and oh yes, by the way did I know that they also offer tutoring? So of course instead of saying, “Thank you, Oh my how lovely and what a wonderful thing to do but I’m not really that interested at this point in time, perhaps I will call in the future should I have concerns about my son’s education,” I started by telling her I wasn’t sure if the assessment would indeed be independent since the very same people assessing my son just so happen to have tutors.
She explained really it was more of a survey – they were doing a survey of the students of the schools in the area and from there would take all that data and oh I don’t know file it away or something. Well, there was my NEXT chance to say no thank you – but me like the self appointed moral and ethical sergeant or something I repeated stuff about independent not being really independent.
I really needed to just say, “Thank you. I am not interested.” but in my attempt to thwart a possible, “but why aren’t you interested, don’t you care about your child’s education? Don’t you want him to get the best possible start in life,” I became a raving lunatic lady.
Thank you but I’m not really interested.
No thank you. I’m not interested.