Un-Domestic Goddess

I probably should be folding the washing right now. It's currently sitting in every basket I own, on the kitchen floor, around the size of Mt Kilimanjaro. Growing towards Everest proportions. Problem is, my kitchen table is too small to fit it all, so I'd have to dump it on the lounge room floor to sort effectively. That's fine; I often encourage the kids to play "the washing game" where they dump the full baskets in the lounge, assign a basket to each family member and then spend a happy half hour sorting each item into the respective receptacle. I supervise from the couch, occasionally confirming their choices, or correcting mis-matched items. Unfortunately today the lounge room floor is covered in fur. Brown fuzzy fur. Sure, we have two big fluffy dogs but it's not theirs'.

Yesterday was Dress Up as your Favourite Book Character at Daycare for the kids. Lovely Daughter was thrilled to go as Anthony Wiggle, resplendent in black trackies (had them already), and a blue top (purchased for $3 from Big W in their Winter clearance) embellished with an iron transfer (Spotlight, around $7) of The Wiggles logo. She was easy. And cheap to please. Lovely Son on the other hand - he was insistent he wanted to be the Big Bad Wolf.
"OK", says Mummy on Monday, a little vague on the ins and outs of children's dress ups. "You can be the Big Bad Wolf, no problem!"

Cue Tuesday - frantically running from store to store looking for brown things. Ears, tail and face were easy. But do you think you can find brown pants and tops? Not I. The obvious reason for this is that brown is just plain cack. It's boring and plain, and reserved only for uniforms of schools that REALLY hate their students and want them to look like giant poos. I even tried any store that sold basic uniform items and wouldn't you know it? The only local school to use brown is changing to blue shortly. Maybe they had better kids enrol this year? Subsequently, the store had one pair of pants and one top in poo brown left in size 4. Unfortunately they wanted $60 for both pieces. $60!!! My kid's not playing in a London pantomime; it's dress up day at daycare! I am not parting with my hard earned cash for that......

Luckily I have a very clever friend who directed me to Spotlight whereupon we found the aforementioned Wiggles transfer, and a bolt of wonderful brown fuzzy furry fabric that was utterly perfect for the Big Bag Wolf. Feeling virtuous and more than a little like Mummy of the Year, I embarked on a project to make the outfit, feet cuffs and paws, knowing that Lovely Son would be ridiculously excited and charge into school growling and snarling (he's a character actor) and impressing all his friends. And clearly all the other mums would be in awe of my dress making skills and commitment to Lovely Son's imaginative experiences. What a shock then, when Lovely Son announced he was not going as the Big Bad Wolf (the outfit scared him - I don't know my own talents) and in fact, he just wanted to go as the Murray Wiggle, so he and Lovely Daughter could match. Also, did I mention that this was at 8am on the morning of Dress Up Day? Sigh.

A hastily tacked-on, paper Wiggles logo, on a thankfully already owned red top was enough to placate him, and with me in my Jeff Wiggle t-shirt, we finally made it to daycare. Everyone was thrilled and all was well in the world. Until I returned home to the wisps and piles of furry brown-ness that had fallen with each snip of the scissors. It was on the floor, all over and under the sofa, trampled throughout the house and attached to carpets, curtains, any other fibre. It looked like a Big Bad Wolf had exploded everywhere. So now, before I can upend the washing baskets to find our clothes, I really do have to vacuum. Everything. Except the vacuum is full and requires emptying into the big bin outside. It's raining right now and the bins are alllll the way over the other side of the yard. I don't have an umbrella. Or I do, but it's in the car which is also in the rain. When I think about it, we've been hunting through those washing baskets all week, so one more day won't really make a difference. And the kids love the Washing Game. Who am I to take away their fun?

I think I'll have a cup of tea in the bath and read the new Phryne Fisher instead. Oh wait...the kids had a coloured bath last night and it needs a clean. And there's brown wolf fur in the plughole.