Woman flu

Woman flu is the complete opposite of man flu. It is knocking back Lemsips like tequila slammers and cracking on with the joys of life regardless. My hubby is helpful, as guys go, but I fantasised that my mum was here hoovering; playing games with the children; cooking; decorating the house for Halloween and trick or treating in  the wind and rain with baby boulder strapped to her back (my son) – well maybe he wouldn’t be on her back. This is what I did this evening while feeling like a shivering, aching, coughing mess. I knew Mum would have insisted I sit in front of the fire like an old granny and not move a muscle. Hubby, on the other hand, regards my being ill as a nuisance in a long line of nuisances in the daily grind. He put baby boy to bed and our daughter, while I cooked. The only thing he could say when I presented to him a new ‘starter’ that I had cooked for the first time followed by jacket potato, was to complain that I had given him too much. “Have you had another Lemsip?” he snaps in annoyance at the inconvenience of my illness. I do love my husband but sometimes he can be a complete wanker.

Earlier, As my daughter, son and I went from door to door dosing up on sugar, we soon ended up in a big trick or treat crew. I had a flashing pink thing on my head that made me look like Medusa (It was effective and kept my son entertained as he played with it). One of our neighbours had really gone to town with music, an eeery path leading to somewhere not very inviting. Some of the Mums chickened out but I was up for a scare. I momentarily forgot my baby son was on my back as I made my way down the spooky passageway to a very haggard old woman standing behind a table with a tin of sweets. As I took the sweets (for my daughter) I felt hands grab my legs and screamed. As I turned to go (laughing at this point as it was only my neighbours) I came face to face with an Eminem lookalike in a white mask. I screamed again, “Dont worry about him, thats my husband” said one of the Mums. However it was unsettling as he continued to stand there not saying anything. He only unmasked momentarily to take a drag of his cigarette. As it started to rain my boy made it clear we had had enough, so with my daughter muttering that she didnt quite have enough sweets (when in fact she had more than enough) we rushed home. We had to join the queue to get in the house though as a line of trick or treaters had formed a queue patiently waiting for my grumpy husband to get his arse in gear and come up with the goods.

Once home, the doorbell was ringing more often than the Pink Windmill but it was loveky to hear my daughter chattering to all the other children at the door, who all know her by name despite being several years above her at school and even in secondary school. It gave me a comforting sense of community and that, in our experience, Halloween is another excuse for kids to get together and have fun….there is no harm in that at all (except maybe a little bit bad for their teeth).

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Thanks for reading.


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