Monday, 25 January 2010

Any tougher and he'd rust.

This photo was taken yesterday ... he did not care at all that he had a mouth full of sand. Dive-bombing into it like he was an action man, making everyone around him laugh.

He is so tough. When we are at the beach, Dave always takes Rocco's nappy off, so he's walking around half nekkid. Walked straight up to a gang of teens one day, staring them all down, baby balls swinging in the breeze. I crept over and picked him up, and addressed the scary gang. "Guys, you better watch it. He's pretty tough."

They all laughed and laughed, said, "We thought he looked pretty hard core!!"


We all came away again, for the Australia Day weekend. It was a bad idea. I'm annoyed, sick of boys (except Max) and just want to go home. Oh .... my husband has a cold. The man can battle cancer, do chemo for six months, lose his hair and almost die .... but a cold?

Whiniest, pathetic man EVAH. I vow to do all of my sons' future wives a favour, and not mollycoddle them when they are sick.

Serves me right for being such a holiday greedy guts. I love the beach, but can't go in the middle of the day because my Scottish skin sizzles .... Flicka, even the warm weather is a bit "meh" lately. Apparently we need winters, to prove how awesome summer is. Who knew?


I've turned off comments to this blog, temporarily. For a few different reasons ... nothing major. Ironically, it's making me want to blog more. You're welcome HA.
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