Friday, 8 May 2015

FFS Friday

I'm late! FFS.

With my post that is. It's not a baby announcement. I'd happily have another baby though. I think I'll be permanently clucky. But I really don't think I could cope with three boys. Hmmm.

Anyhow, onto FFS Friday.

A few weeks ago the PILs came to visit. FFS.

MIL was trying her best to help me, but it was a total train wreck. FFS.

You know when someone is trying to help you and they just make things worse? That's what happened. FFS.

Unknown to me she decided to hang my washing out. It'd been raining for a few days so I had a huge pile of washing to get through. FFS.

Instead of hanging everything next to each other she hung things at random spots all over the line. FFS.

I discovered this when I went to hang out the next load of washing. FFS.

I had to take almost everything off and rehang it along with the huge load of washing that'd just finished. FFS.

For her next trick MIL decided that every single one of my hand towels (including the ones that I'd just washed) needed to be soaked. FFS.

She soaked them in bleach and dettol. This wouldn't have been a problem if she hadn't put them into the bucket that my muslin face cloths were already soaking in. FFS.

Thankfully I discovered it just after she'd done it so managed to save my face washers. Not FFS.

That meant I had to rinse and wash the face washers immediately, instead of doing them the next day like I'd planned. FFS.

The next day MIL was intent on washing the towels. I didn't want to wash them because I didn't have a full load and we had guests leaving in a few days which would mean more towels to wash. I told MIL four times that I didn't want to wash the towels but she ignored me. FFS.

Pretending she was interested in my washing machine she insisted I stop drinking my first coffee of the day (bad idea) and show her how the washing machine worked. FFS.

I told her again not to wash the towels. FFS.

Instead of listening to me she asked Tiger if she could wash the towels. FFS.

He told her he'd have to check with me, I told him no and she listened to him. FFS.

Clearly me telling her no five times wasn't enough. FFS.

As if that wasn't helpful enough, she washed a pile of dishes with cold water and no soap, then put them all away. FFS.

They were still dirty. FFS.

I'm still finding dirty things in the drawers and cupboards. FFS.

Just for good measure she threw out my olive oil bottle and steam mop pads. FFS,

Poor Bella has a skin irritation at the moment. FFS.

We've taken her to the vet and it's being treated. Not FFS.

MIL took one look at it and told us that we need to get a second opinion. FFS.

Then she decided we should take Bella to the hospital. FFS.

The human hospital. FFS.

In the city, which is a two hour drive away. FFS.

Whilst she was on a roll she told us that you get asthma and rheumatoid arthritis from going barefoot. FFS.

She knows this because her father told her and she believes him. FFS.

I'm not even joking. FFS.

It must be so difficult being her, I feel sorry for her.

And there ends my FFS Friday whinge. Next week I have a Telstra whine.

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