My safety clothing is black on black on black. I've come to the realisation that its the only way to pull of homeless chic. Maybe I stole my look from blanket dude on K-road who clearly doesn't give no fucks about life. That dude could wear a pineapple on his man-junk and people would still be throwing money into that tin cup. Maybe I should just sit there and see how much cash the gods bestow upon me. I shouldn't joke about that, I'm one purchase away from declaring a state of emergency in this household. One day soon I really might need that dude's tin cup. We can't afford meat but it's okay though-We have tequila!
My car is like the land of the lost. Have you ever seen a teenage girls' bedroom after trying to find an outfit to wear. My car looks like that all the time. There are bits of crackers that I don't even remember giving Noah to eat. I think theres probably about 7 shoes with no mate and about 5 jumpers that probably don't even fit Noah anymore. I'm making myself sound like a pig but seriously you should try keeping a car clean with two children under three. Mission (slightly) impossible. I'm currently covered in snot, both my kids are sick. I could probably wring this top I'm wearing and fill up a coffee cup. Someone give me something to look forward to. PLEASE. On a slightly more positive note, We just celebrated Tonga's 29th birthday. We went to Mexican Cafe and aside from the group of girls wearing tartan shirts and hooker hoops, trying to lean like a cholo, it was A++ as always. I had the ceviche which was lemon delicious and the fish was very fresh, although the salad could have used more dressing. Tonga had a chicken chimichanga which is like a deep fried tortilla with chicken, beans and cheese inside served with rice and beans (I always get this, its amazing). Side note: My mum makes better Mexican beans but hey? You can't blame them for trying. If you do go to the Mex, you HAVE to get the hot cheese dip. Its like a warm, creamy mess of cheesy, mexicany, spicey deliciousness. Another side note: If I was in prison on death row, my last meal would be a jug of passionfruit margarita. BOOM, there it is. My child has escaped* and is probably wandering the streets by now, its 8:13 at night so I should go and look for him. *Kidding, hes at my parents' house next door. Probably conning my mum into making him dessert and watching youtube videos of little spanish kids playing with kinder suprise eggs. Until next time, S x
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About me
Sarah. Mother. Wife. Daughter. Adrenaline auto injectors are not funded in New Zealand, Please sign the petition to change this. Our family is affected by anaphylaxis as are so many others. You can make a difference!
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August 2016
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