Brit Bitches

practising the art of bitchary Brit style

A mothers time is most certainly not her own. October 31, 2011

Any of you mums out there will know that, when you pop out a baby, from that second onwards your time is no longer your own.

Never will you have a wee in the peace and tranquility your urine deserves, because the minute you release those pelvic muscles (well those muscles that weren’t destroyed by the trauma that is childbirth) and the wee starts to flow , you will suddenly hear the pitter patter of tiny feet, in my case the not so tiny patter of 8 and 5 year old feet.

So it begins ” Mum, you said we could have something out the sweetie jar, Mum you said I could go on the laptop!!

Its funny I don’t remember making any of these promises.

For some reason I always start to enter into dialogue with them, then suddenly, it strikes me, why am I sitting on the loo arguing about sweets surely the sweets can wait the 5 minutes that I have oh so selfishly alacated to myself!

The bathroom for us Mums is clearly know longer a relaxing tranquil environment in which to relax and have ME time, no, it is now a place to perform every day necessary functions such as going to the toilet and washing.

Speed is of the essence, as no member of your family ( I include the fully grown adult who shares the house with you, commonly known as The Husband, in that comment) can possibly do without your presence ( the real reason 2 in 1 shampoo was invented) for more than 5 minutes.

This weekend I was having one of those relaxing 5 minute shower breaks when in bursts Youngest son. He informs me he has something really important to tell me, so I listen incase someone has drowned in their frosties. Turns out its not that important, Daddy can’t find the controls!

I look at my darling boy, but he is all of a sudden distracted…….” Mummy why is your willy furry?”.

Ok, two things, must spend time explaining to youngest son that boys have willys and girls have bitbits ( at 5 vagina seems a little harsh!), and I really must book that waxing appointment!


Thong gone wrong! May 8, 2010

Theres’ nothing like lazing about on a sun-kissed beach.

Its 32 degrees.

The sea is lapping up the beach, each gentle wave engulfing the grains of sand that glisten beneath it.

The cool turquoise water teasing my toes as it serenades the edges of the shore.

This is heaven, this is bliss.

What more could a girl need.

The kids entertain the hyperactive husband, with sand sculpting and frisbee.

Leaving me free to read my novel and titanate my taste buds with a wet, cold fruity cocktail ( with a hint of vodka, of course ).

Ahhhhhhh I am relaxed, I am no longer the bitch on heat, I used to be.

WTF is that!!

Suddenly, I am struck with a vision which is set to disturb me for years to come.

I blink my eyes, surely this is a mirage of the disturbed kind.

For there, standing before me is a sight that could fry the hardest of retina.

A pensioner in a thong, complete with hairy arse crack and poking out toger.

Clear the fucking beach, women and children first.

There is nothing we can do for him now, he has clearly abandoned his dignity at Gatwick.

Avoid all eye contact, after all what could I possibly say to him.

“Err excuse me mate, have you got oil on that, only your toger is pinking up!”

I know the ‘show and tell’ story my kids are going to be taking home with them!


A lesson in drugs. May 5, 2010

Its time for that old favourite… Its PHSE!

Todays specialist subject. ‘ Drugs and Alcohol ‘ . I can almost hear the kids giving me a whoop, whoop!

Of I go.

Teacher: “Today guys, we are going to talk about ‘Drugs and Alcohol’, lets see what we already know”

There little eyes are bright with excitement. If ‘ Masterminds’ specialist subject was addictions, these kids would be champions!

The air is once again a sea of hands.

Even the normal, mute retards are on fire.

There spitting at the mouth in desperation to speak. ( and thats not got anything to do with there need for speech therapy).

Pupils: ” Beer, wine, Vodka, splif, speed, rock, acid, Jack Daniels”

               ” My dad likes weed”

Crap, this is no longer a lesson, this is fucking boasting.

‘My Dads more addicted than your Dad’

‘My Mums more fucked up than your Mum’

Maybe there is an advantage to having drug addled, moron parents.


A bum lesson. May 4, 2010

There are some classes you just don’t look forward to being part of.

This is most certainly one of them.

Its time for PHSE.

Topic: Parts of the body. ( what could possibly go wrong!!)

So, off we go.

I start off with the usual speal.

As soon as I mention body parts, laughter trickles around the circle.

Ok, this can only end one way- disastrously!

Teacher: ” Right today we are learning about the correct names of parts of the body”.

                   ” Who can start me off”.

I realise this is asking for trouble, let’s be honest what these ‘asbo’ kids don’t know about body parts, is not worth knowing.

It’s all good learning, after all, these kids are going to need to know the difference between their anus and there urethra, otherwise, how else are the going to hide their drugs.

A sea of hands rise into the air, it just goes to prove, if you teach a subject that’s familiar to them, there’s no end to there talents.

I choose the children wisely, ” Bum, willy, fairy(WTF!), leg, bum cheeks etc, etc”  They continue without falter.

Teacher: ” Well done, now, these are all words that we choose to call our body parts, however they also have technical  names that your doctor might use”.” Lets see if we can label this diagram with the correct names”

Off they go again ” bottom, penis, breast, thigh, fairy(?)”

Seriously no… please don’t tell me at 9 years old, this freak thinks her fanny is called a fairy.

Ok, I see they are going to need some help with this.

Teacher: ” Right lets start with bottom, our bottom is made up of lots of different parts, the cheeks that we sit on, and the part that we poo out of. Who can tell me what that is called, it begins with ‘a’ ?

They sit there, red-faced and shocked that they can legitimately say penis and vagina, and not get told off. The hands begin to rise.

There’s one hand higher than the others, the owner about to explode with excitement, finally a subject they understand.

I bravely go with it.

Teacher: ” Yes, jazz, ‘a’ is for…..”

Pupil: ” Arse” A beaming smile on face, there is no way that answer could be wrong, her Dad uses it all the time.

Teacher: ” No, not quite. ‘A’ is for anus”

What the fuck am I doing, Its ok kids, stick with what you know.

Does it really matter if a fanny is a fairy, and a bum is an arse.

Lets face it, these kids have more to think about.

I abandon the lesson.

Anyone want to take their ‘trouser snake’ for a piddle?


Stranger danger. May 3, 2010

My three-year old son has been learning about stranger danger.

Clearly he missed the important message that the police were giving out.

As we walked home.

A stranger approaches.

So Oscar shouts out ” Hello Stranger ” 

I close my eye and shake my head in despair.

He seriously believes, if he says hello to the stranger, then they are know longer a stranger.

Problem solved,  in his tiny mind!

Mental note: Must do more intensive work on stranger danger.


Not another veggie in the making! April 27, 2010

Watch out, meat eating 6 year old about!

So I’m standing at the sink.

When  my lovely daughter pipes up….

Daughter: “Mummy it would be good to live on a farm, wouldn’t it”

Mother: ” Would it, why”  I’m thinking, really, all that shit and mud everywhere, my heels would never survive!

Daughter: “Because you would never run out of things to eat, you could collect the chickens eggs and make cakes and dinner”

Mother: “Thats right darling”. Wow, how very organic of her. Bless her, how innocent.

Daughter: ” Then you could shoot a lamb or kill a cow…..”


My angelic 6 year old is a disturbed freak!

Mother: ” We could yes……..or we could grow some crops ( and stop the mass murder of hundreds of live stock!), and make lots of soup”

Daughter: ” We could eat the pigs as well, I love bacon”  She said with a rather disturbing lick of the lips.

For fuck sake girl, enough of the animal slaughter.

Mental note: Keep the dog away from young cannibal daughter!


Zero raspberry tolerants. April 19, 2010

I was waiting for my 6 year old daughter to finish school.

The classroom door opened, all the little darlings piled out. All except for one.

And then it happened, the moment every parent waiting in the playground dreads.

The teacher eyes are on you, she points and mutters those fateful words “could you come in for a minute Mrs Bates”.

At this point every fucker in the playground is looking at you, you with the out of control child! Each parent thinking the same thing  ‘ Thank fuck it isn’t me’ and ‘Wonder what Shes done’ followed by the smug parent look.

Across the playground, doing the walk of shame I go.

I enter the classroom and am jestered to sit on the chair next to my delinquent child.

I look at her, you no the look, the I’m going to kick your arse when we get home ,look.

delinquent child stares firmly at the floor.

The grassing up begins.

Teacher: ” There was a problem in the playground today, Daisy and another child (why do they say that, another child, just tell me the fucking name, I’m going to find out the other kids name, during the 3 hour interrogation that I am already planning in my head) blew a raspberry in a childs face.

Hold the front page, 6-year-old blows raspberry at school, it’ll be gun crime before you no it!

Suddenly I start to feel confused, so she got me in here for that. There must be more to it.

Teacher: “Because of this, Daisy had to spend 20 minutes in year 2 as her punishment”.

I decide to be a good parent, and question my raspberry blowing maniac child.

Mum:” So Daisy what happened”. At this point my child is looking at me, equally confused, raspberries in our house are funny!

Delinquent child: ” Aliesha told me to f-u-c…..”

Mum:” She starts sounding out”, ” Ok, ok you don’t need to sound it out”.

Delinquent child: ” …off, so we blow a raspberry”.

Mum: ” Thank you for filling me in, clearly this ‘other’ child provoked them, but I respect you rules and will speak to Daisy at home”.

             ” I am assuming, the child who swore has been suitably punished?”

Teacher ” Well we didn’t see or hear the other child, so I’m afraid…”

So let me get this right. The sneaky little fucker with a mouth like a toilet, gets away scott free and the age appropriate response gets punished.

What a crock of shite.

I leave hastily. Fucking education system!