I don’t know why I got such a shock when I first witnessed the gender stereotype shaming of my son. In fact, I probably got off lightly that he had gotten as far as three and a half before it happened. But I’m guessing I’m probably deluding myself there, because I’m sure it has happened at some stage outside of my beady eye. I just wasn’t there to feel the mother rage and get that sick feeling in my stomach. Continue reading From Frozen to socialised violence
Where my handbag is my walking filing cabinet of life, my wallet is the brains and heart of the operation, storing up all of the critical bits and bobs so that I can pull them out at a moment’s notice in a “ta-da”, save-the-day kind of way. Continue reading My loyalty card shame
I am an occasional collector of supermarket promotional stamps. If it’s pyrex or wine glasses, I’m in there collecting coupons like a nutter. But most of the time I can take them or leave them. Continue reading Did I tell you the one about my dressing gown?