Things that shit me… #17

(Is that bad, that I am up to 17?!)

Things that shit me…

Swimming parents who steal your spot in the change rooms.


And if you are this swim Mum or swim Dad, I HATE YOU. You deserve a bunch of soaking-chlorinated swimmers thrown in your face.

This happens more times than I dare to count. If I start to count, God help me.

When baby girl goes to her swimming lesson, it is at a peak after-school time.

When I take her to the change rooms straight after for a quick dry and change, it is still peak after-school time.

Do you know what happens almost all the time?

Breathe. Phew…

We walk in. Baby girl has to go to the loo, immediately.

So I put her change bag and shoes down. At a free spot. One that is a-v-a-i-l-a-b-l-e. One side of the change rooms is all benches and places to hang your towels and bags, and I pick one that doesn’t have anyone else’s stuff around it before quickly heading into the toilet with her.

I head in with her, because while in there I pull off her sticky swimmers and wrap her in a towel.

We are out in 2 minutes. Sometimes less.

And as we walk back over to the benches, I take a deep breath, knowing…

someone has taken my spot.

They are literally changing their dripping child into fresh clothes. They are practically in my spot, almost standing on baby girl’s shoes, practically nudging her change bag, and anyone else walking in would be totally forgiven in thinking that baby girl’s stuff, is theirs.

But the stealer of space is not forgiven. They have invaded my space and they and their child and stuff is all in my face! If I did go to my spot to change baby girl, we would be hugging (or I would be strangling them) THAT’S HOW CLOSE WE WOULD BE.

You haven’t heard the clincher, wait for it…

I look around, and there is available bench space around that doesn’t include my bag.



They have room to change their child elsewhere, and these morons continually pick a spot where my stuff already is!

And you know what I do? Like today… I head over to my stuff, snatch it away and walk off… to a free spot.


I am at swimming every week having these knocked-around-like-Beyoncé moments:

The woman no matter who she is, will NEVER say anything. I should park my car so close to hers so she can’t get into her driver’s side, and just stare at her when she has to climb in through the passenger and accidentally lodges herself on the parking brake.

Not pissed much.

This riles me up soooo bad. And I know I am all glass half-full gratitude gal over here… but do not be surprised if one day you hear a news report and it goes something like…

“Chaos today on the Peninsula as a woman is pelted with swimming noodles after taking the spot of another in the change rooms… full details after the break.”

That will be me.

Twisted Lyrics #4

Beyoncé, Baby Boy.

This is going to make you LOL, ROFL, and DUOASYTSS. (You don’t know DUOASYTSS? Double Up Over And Slap Your Thighs, Screaming Seriously?)

So the song with Sean Paul, yeah? You’re probably thinking I have no clue what the mumbler is singing in between Beyoncé’s spiralling lyrics? Yeah wrong. It’s Mrs Carter’s lyrics I’ve been screwing up for all these years, and I didn’t even realise until earlier today when I sang it on the drive home. For hilarity and suspense’s sake, let me give you the proper version first:

“Baby boy you stay on my mind
Baby boy you are so damn fine
Baby boy won’t you be mine
Baby boy let’s, conceive an angel.”

That, I reiterate, is the correct version. Now let me take you to my head:

“Baby boy you stay on my mind (good)
Baby boy you are so damn fine (better!)
Baby boy won’t you be mine (yes I’ve got this!)
Baby boy let’s, consider getting dinner.”

Seriously? That’s what Beyoncé is going to sing about in her song? Getting dinner?

Not only is she asking men to have dinner with her, but she is first ‘considering’ them to have dinner with. Hmmm…

My over-analytical head.

I’ll go now and let you DUOASYTSS…