This has been a week of small accomplishments and I mean small but boy do I feel pleased with myself. This equally makes me feel very sad that I feel good about such small things.
Firstly I conquered the ironing mountain to achieve that rare occurrence of no washing in the linen basket, washing machine, on the washing line or waiting to be ironed. This doesn't happen very often and what kept me going as I ironed he-mans' 100th t shirt was that I could achieve karma on the washing front. ( I am not tied to the ironing board and the kids do help out here i woudl like to point out -see point 4)
Secondly after years of trying to achieve the perfect Audrey Hepburn eyeliner flick only ever to manage one good eye and the other making me look like I had been struck with Bells Palsy I manage to get both eyes perfect. Will I be able to achieve this again I doubt it.
Thirdly whilst being a self proclaimed domestic goddess and loving the cooking ( apart from having to conjure up weekly teatime delights which is pure hell invented to torture mothers ) I am not good when it comes to cooking rice. You guessed it I acheived the perfect egg fried rice has also been achieved.
Fourthly I managed to give the kids a rollocking in a really cunning way and without "going off one " as He-man is oft to accuse. ( rollocking on not helping with housework etc )
Finally a did the perfect roast beef and yorkshire puddings. The beef was cooked to perfection and as a reward my friends and I drank far too much and everyone had 4 puddings each.
Is there no end to this feeling of domestic smugness? Will I get the same feeling when I fix She-ra's bike for nth time or manage to eek out the cupboard and freezer for an extra week so I can pocket the money to spend on a pair of black leather boots I am currently coveting?