Mosher'sUnimaginativelyEntitledBlog
–**– The Blog Without A Bloody Annoying Tagline –**–
Take a fully-loaded disposable nappy from a well-fed baby. Wrap it around itself and seal with the little velcro bits.
If you’re feeling slightly less of a risk-taker, place it in a small plastic bag and tie this shut.
Locate yourself round the corner from your other half.
When they are unsuspecting, launch the package into their vicinity with a shout of “GRENADE!!!”
Take cover.
Many words get “redefined” these days. Picked up and used in ways which, historically, make no sense. Some are niche, others become more common.
For instance, remember when something being “bad” meant it was good? And that a skateboard trick being “sick” doesn’t mean it need to see a doctor?
Then there’s the word “awesome” which I am guilty of (over-)using. Specifically, it’s got quite a narrow range of meaning. The Oxford Dictionaries define it as:
adjective
extremely impressive or daunting; inspiring awe:
the awesome power of the atomic bomb
In the last couple of years, they’ve added:
informal extremely good; excellent:
the band is truly awesome!
Why do I bring this up? Well, today is my youngest daughter’s first birthday. A whole year surviving in our household is no mean feat, especially as you get older and start annoying the adults more and more…
But what I want to get over is that she is awesome. And I don’t mean she’s simply extremely good, or excellent. Alestorm are extremely good, or excellent. Niamh inspires awe. She is utterly, wonderfully, jaw-droppingly amazing.
How on earth I managed to have something to do with the creation of something so mind-bendingly incredible is beyond me. That is awesome.
How she grew from something the size of a pin-head to a huge lump of flesh and bone which can now toddle, smile cheekily, dance to Airbourne, open toilet lids and feed the dog from his own bowl (the bits that she doesn’t steal for herself)… that is awesome.
And we have two others – one voted the top pupil in her year by her peers recently; the other getting a perfect incident-free report from nursery for two years, who’s become addicted to libraries and about to move to “proper” school. They’re awesome, too. Not just excellent – they inspire awe.
So if you have kids, I really hope that every day you spare a little thought for how ridiculously, incredibly, incalculably unlikely it is that two cells each became those things you spend half your time wishing would just shut the hell up.
And if that’s not something to inspire awe, I don’t know what is.
There was an article kicking around on facebook a few weeks ago about Tesco’s insistence that chemistry, electronics, physics and other science-y toys were “boys’ toys”. Because, obviously, girls aren’t interested in science and are also rubbish at it.
Well, actually, this is crap.
Younger girls may be put off science by the fact that all the science-based toys are in the boys’ section, so if they were to get one their peers could go down the “Ew, you’re playing with boys’ stuff” route. Peer pressure has a hell of an effect when you’re in primary school or early secondary.
I was a bit annoyed when I read the original story – and still am, in honesty – but put it to the back of my mind. Until today.
We just had our school prize day. Bear in mind I work at a “posh” school where the kids really are pushed, by staff and parents. As such, we’ve got quite the number who are expected to become doctors, vets and the like. In other words, this is a school where the gender thing is thrown out the window in exchange for the “success in whatever field” thing. A level playing-field as far as subject matter goes.
Here are some figures:
So, not far off a 50:50 split. In other words, the sciences are as much a female as a male domain. As such, girls should be encouraged as much as boys to pick up a programming manual, packet of litmus paper, scalpel or voltmeter.
And Tesco can shove their sexist categorisations of learning toys up their corporate backside.
NEVER EVER EVER consider buying a car from these dodgy shysters.
To date Arnold Clark have:
It’s a 7-seater and we need a vehicle this size. She’s been told that she has to pay for a hire vehicle (or specifically the insurance on one) while they fix their shoddy sale, and I will bet you our house that it will be something the size of a Clio, not the size we require. In other words, it’ll be useless.
The only thing stopping me driving down there and having it out with one of the lying, two-faced ******** is that she’s made me promise I won’t. I am FUMING at the moment and want nothing more than to go down when they’re busy and ensure that they make no sales while I’m on or near the premises.
I gather that Scotland has no trespass laws, so can they actually eject me? They certainly can’t have me moved on from the road outside…
Best thing about Fathers’ Day is having kids. This year a special shout out has to go to Ellissa. I know we don’t get on a lot of the time, but she made me really proud last night at her dance show.
She’s really been putting work in. Even better than she was last year and I’m sure I saw a few of her group following her lead when they weren’t sure what was next.
Then there’s Little Mister who’s qualified for a place at the school I work at, despite his speech/language issues. He’s come on like you wouldn’t believe the last year or so.
And of course, Littler Miss just continues to amaze. Every day a fresh challenge with that one…
