Saturday, 10 March 2012

It's a Cheese wouldn't understand.

Men don't get cheese the way women do.  Men always make joking references (which sometimes get them silently ice picked through their cerebral cortex) about women and chocolate but they don't realize that while chocolate is important it is really about the cheese.

Some time ago I was craving cheese while at my local, very expensive, mini grocery.  I splurged on a small (I mean really small for $7.00), block of a cheese called Dubliner.  And thus began a serious addiction that has spread the length of my neighbourhood and beyond.

Dubliner is like a cross between Cheddar and really!!!!   Dubliner can be a breakfast food, snack, solace on a completely crap day, dinner with a few crackers and a bit of bread or even a way to choke down evidence of crime.

Ok so the last idea stems from the fact that no addiction is quite as much fun if you are the only one.  So I started to feed Dubliner to my friends.  Women friends.  Men don't get it.  They eat a piece and say,  "Yeah that's good" and then they walk away.  I have never seen a woman just walk away from a piece of Dubliner. Nope,  we will all fight to the end for the last scrap.  Evidence...

a real text conversation between my co-blogger and I

Her: "Omg. I may kill my children, slather them in cheese and eat them."

Me: "Nom nom nom"

The implication was she was putting a slice or 10 of Dubliner on them.  Really!!

Of course we can always blame Costco for the seriousness of this addiction.  Like any good drug supplier they get you hooked with the volumne discount.  One lovely friend discovered that Costco carries  it for the same price but for a WAY BIGGER BLOCK OF CHEESE!!!  YEAH BABY!!  So of course we now have Dubliner runs out to Costco and if any one of us is going a text needs to be sent out that says.  Heading to Costco.   Dubliner?   To which everyone responds with their order.

Ok I can't write anymore about cheese.  All this has made me hungry.  Its 10:00 and I need some Dubliner.

Those (women) of you who haven't already tried it are going to go and get some today.  I just know it.



Thursday, 8 March 2012

There needs to be a special daycare that men go to when they are sick. Or an island or something.  Because if they (my husband) stay at home we (me) are going to out right kill them and stuff them in to a hockey bag or as discussed in "Mum's the Word" we will slowly nurse them to death. and then call for them to be carted away.

No don't misunderstand me!  It is not that I don't believe that he doesn't feel well it's just that he is so bloody annoying when he is sick.

For the last few days J has not felt well.  His symptoms appear to be difficult to pin down.  I have heard "nauseous, dizzy, faint, achy and numb" in the last few hours. We have ruled out malaria, botulism, dengue fever eboli, ecoli and sugar overdose. Symptoms seem to be transient and variable in their intensity.

I haven't felt well in the last few days either but I am loathe to mention it, as with husbands and wives, or at least with my husband, it becomes a sort of competition which there is no way in hell I will ever win.

So I close myself in my home office, eat Tums, take Tylenol and try to ignore the moans emanating from his special chair in our living room.  God forbid I hand him the phone to take a call from a client!  He looks, in that moment, like a horse being taken to slaughter, with his eyes rolling back in his head.

I have loaned out all of the hockey bags to a variety of women in need and I may have to resort to body disposal in an assortment of fabric grocery bags.  A good use for them since I always forget to take them to the store with me anyway.

 AND don't get me started on the Eco Police Checkout Girl who gives me the evil eye when you say you need a plastic or paper bag.  Apparently she can hear the trees cry.

Did I mention I don't feel well?