You may be familiar with her, Lexy, from Mammywoo. Last year she won Best New Blog in the MADS awards. In my opinion she should win best blog every year. Lexy's blog chronicles her adventures through motherhood and a heart-wrenchingly honest account of a battle against severe depression. Her style of writing is awesome, sometimes almost poetic, and so many times I have laughed and cried while reading a post. Lexy's writing can't help but touch your heart, whether it moves you to tears or fits of giggles. Or both.
With her permission below is an extract from a recent post on her blog, Carry on... Curry (Aunty Pat? You may want to give this one a miss), which you can read in full here.
Anyway. Cucumbers.
I am so positively childish that I find buying a cucumber more embarrassing than selecting and then purchasing a job load of Tena lady or even Tampax.
Reminding myself that Therapy has taught me to be honest, I switch Cbeebies on for Addison and pick up my phone.
He answers after the second ring.
‘Irish one, I am not buying the cucumber’ I state clearly, channeling my inner lion.
‘We need wipes as well’ he replies, seemingly not hearing my roar.
A cucumber, wine and wipes?
Is he trying to kill me?
No. Way.
‘Irish one,’ I say trying not to laugh ‘There is no way in hell, I am walking up to the till in Morrison’s with a cucumber, a bottle of wine and some wipes’
‘Why not?’ he asks confused, while I nearly cry laughing.
‘Think about it!’ I shout.
‘I have done and I don’t get it. Am I missing the joke here?’
I start to try and explain but he interrupts me, his voice dropping an octave.
‘We need some condoms too.’
I throw my head back and howl.
‘What?’ he asks, confused but trying to be assertive (confused and assertive, not a good combination!)
‘Are you serious?’ I spurt out in between gaspfuls of hilarity ‘you want me to walk up to the VERY BUSY check outs at Morrison’s, in the middle of the afternoon and buy condoms, wine, a cucumber and some wipes?’
‘Yes.’ He states matter of factly before finishing the call ‘I don’t know what is so funny but I have to go now. Love you.’
An hour later after I have got Addison dressed, tried and re-tried in my head over and over again to make the shopping list sound less seedy and more motherly, blushing just thinking about what the check out girl or boy might think I am planning, I get a text message.
PMSL. MENTALIST. I WILL BUY THE CUCUMBER. LOVE YOU.
Thank god for that, I think putting my phone down just as it beeps again.
BUT YOU BUY CONDOMS OK? I AM NOT STANDING AT THE CHECK OUT HOLDING A CUCUMBER AND CONDOMS.
The man has a point.
Compromise reached.
Another win for therapy.
Hang on… Condoms?
HA!
It’s not christmas yet is it?
