Okay, lets get one thing straight from the beginning. What tops the UGLY list immediately and without question would be my hair which my five year old described as “old” not understanding that I am trying to grow it a bit so that it can be cut in a decent style today, when I visit the hairdresser! My coiffure is reminiscent of the crown King Julian wears in the Madagascar movies…you parents will know what I am talking about…so while my older daughter asked me if I would be putting up a photo of my hair, I respectfully declined and lied about the camera being full.

my startled look as I plough through laundry jungle to bathroom mirror!

An ugly and bad combined: a big shout out to Cialis and Levitra for choosing to advertise before the watershed!!! NOT! My children and I were in the living room some time after 6:30pm: Little one coloring in, older one reading, Mom being her Crackberry self (actually still trying to figure out how the thing works) when I switched the television on to Charlie Gibson’s “World” news. My eleven (soon soon to be twelve) year old looked up to listen to all that was happening. Then the ads came on and wham bam thank you ma’am, the Cialis ad quickly followed by Levitra. I continued to look at the Blackberry buzzing in my hands for some unknown reason when this young 11 year old voice asked me the question: “Mom, what is an erection?” 

Holy crap…is what I was screaming in my head but calmly looked at her and explained the term. She is eleven, she got what she needed to know from our little discussion. So the talk is starting in baby steps…I am not completely sure how I will be approaching this all – having a tween is a first for me. So it should be an interesting journey to say the least.

Time for a good (or an ugly, depending on your point of view)…With Mother’s day coming up, my youngest is very enthralled by a day just for mommies. She figures she could get in on this action too, after all she is a mommy to eight teddies, four dolls, two penguins and six rocks…However, her main focus has been me…great!

“Mommy, it is going to be Mother’s Day soon…I have decided to give you a make over. I will do your make up and your hair, it looks old. I will also let Daddy buy you a new dress. You need a make over, you look like a maid…”

Now I am trying to see the brighter side of that remark, the only “maid” she knows is pre-FairyGodMother Cinderella…she was pretty in her rags according to the book’s pictures…..?

Ten Things That Would Make My Life A Little Easier:

1. Mojito flavored novacaine – would make my trips to the dentist a bit more fun…
2. A tumble dryer that folds the laundry when dry and packs it away.
3. A totally self -cleaning bathroom.
4. A coffee machine that not only makes the coffee, but brings it upstairs at 6:30am with the New York Times, the Guardian paper and maybe a pastry (not a lot to ask, really…).
5. Totally free checking that is, in fact, TOTALLY free…
6. My husband finally getting his US driver’s license, to add to his South African and United Kingdom ones.
7. Self-brushing cats.
8. Calorie-free Lindt chocolates.
9. A Starbucks in my kitchen.
10. The ability to actually SLEEP (as opposed to pretending) past 6:30am on weekends when even the kids manage to lie in…

Really, as far as a wish list goes, it is not that much to ask, is it?

Well, I have put Monday in the recylcing bin and I have raised myself from the floor and dusted myself off…ready to face the rest of the week. A week busy with school starting again for my eldest daughter after twelve weeks of summer vacation. A week busy with my youngest baby starting kindergarten – a day that will bring tears to my eyes, joy to my heart and a previously unknown quiet in my house in the morning…

So while things are chaotic in the run up to the big day, I just sit back and smile at my job because I know I have the best job in the world…

Quit Complaining...it could be worse

Roseanne Barr on top form...

These last few days I have had Mad Cow Disease. And if you know me, you KNOW, do not pick a fight with me now or say stupid things that are going to piss me off. Not if you value YOUR sanity and peace of mind.

So let’s see what has pissed me off in the last few days. Yesterday I read that Roseanne Barr took a dig, no sorry, let me rephrase that, broadsided/viciously attacked Jon Voight, Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt and their children, on her blog, Roseanne’s World. From the start, let me tell you that I have been an on-again, off-again “fan” (I use the term loosely) of Roseanne Barr. She laid into Jon Voight and called Angelina “evil spawn”, Brad “vacuous” and their children “dunces”. She pronounced that they only give $3 million to charity as though to show that “they give a crap”. Now I am not fond of celebs especially those who are cause celebs for the sake of PR. But I ask you Roseanne, where were you that Christmas day when Angelina and Brad helped out at a shelter in a Central Americancountry – no doubt stuffing your face with the food you can afford with the money you make. Or maybe that is your problem – your little well of riches running dry? So the program you had on television about one of the most dysfunctional, overweight and disrespectful families is no longer paying dividends. That family might have been fictional, but you, Roseanne seemed to fit right in – like a duck to water. And answer this, Roseanne, how much have you given to charity?

While bitching that Angelina Jolie has not endorsed any one candidate yet, has raised some eyebrows considering her known liberal tendencies, blasting her for not doing so is a case of the pot calling the kettle black – in Roseanne’s case. Do we announce our support so that we can say we did so – I see on her blog, Roseanne is selling Gore/Edwards T-shirts – the best ticket in her mind. Ah, yes, lets support an adulterer. That is so much better than not having yet endorsed someone. If Roseanne was giving away those T-shirts free, I would not wear one that supports a man who cheated on his wife while she was suffering from cancer – using her illness to get a sympathy vote – and Angelina is evil?

Say then what you will about grown ups – but where does Roseanne get off calling the kids dunces? I am sure that all good parents think the same – say what you will about me, but don’t touch my kids. Pick on someone your own size! Oh and I am sure Obama loves being supported by a crazy woman who picks on children. Gees, and I thought I was a mad cow! But at least I don’t have methane gas emanating from my mouth…

Today was my youngest child’s birthday. She is a whole five years old…FIVE! She is my baby girl…and I can not believe that she is starting kindergarten this Fall. She is such a big girl and yet she is still so small. But the diva in her was well and truly in residence today – not in a bad way. “I am the birthday princess today!” was the most used statement. Those were the first words out of her mouth this morning when she groggily opened her eyes. She said it again with a smile when she walked down the stairs and saw the presents in the living room and the huge helium singing Disney princesses balloon. That is the day she wanted – a day of Disney Princesses. All of them: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Belle, Snow White, Jasmine (her favorite) and Ariel. Birthday Princess was just a little upset though that Mulan was not included in the princess lineup. Not my fault that one and probably a topic for a whole other blog.

So Hubby took the day off from work to spend it with the family. Talking of family, our immediate family is thousands of miles away and so we have to go the extra mile to make days like birthdays a little more special – to be honest though, even if the family were living next door, we would still go that extra mile! The girls had their swimming lessons today and Hubby went with to watch. Oh my goodness, the girls swam like dolphins, showing off all their learned aquatic skills to the proud father standing broad chested on the shore of the pond.

Swimming was followed by an unprecedented week day hour or so of Wii. At this stage mom retired to the master boudoir complete with eye mask and ear plugs and rested for a while. We went after my nap to Birthday Princess’s daycare for her party there. She was joined by two former students, my eldest and the Hubby. We had cake and juice and then it happened. I have heard rumors of this happening before but have never witnessed it with my own eyes and today I had that experience. But first, the cake was delicious – vanilla cake decorated to perfection complete with the Disney Princesses dancing around the frosting between the gorgeous edible flowers (Mulan was missing again – do I see a pattern here?)

And then it happened…

C.I.H.

Cake Induced Hysteria…

Symptoms: 

• running giggling uncontrollably around the tree
• running laughing playing catch
• running chuckling during a game of duck duck goose
• waving gymnastic ribbons in a frenzied run around the lawn

Something interesting though…the symptoms affect all people of different ages. The kids were between the ages of 2 and 11 but there was one grown up who was wildly affected: Hubby…

Hubby ran with the ribbons…did his best to imitate the Olympic gymnasts who will wow us all in a few days…he grabbed the little flags and “flew” across the yard…that action even made the Blue Jays sit up and take notice…oh the acts he whipped out were many and varied…helicopters (he lifted himself off the ground much to the delight of the children) – I can not even remember all them. All of them induced by cake!

The girls sat down to dinner tonight and we did the usual questioning: what was your favorite part of your day?

Birthday Princess went first: “Opening Presents and daddy coming to watch my swimming!”

Eldest daughter was next: “Birthday Princess waking me up this morning so that she could get to her presents and dad coming to watch my swimming!”

Then Hubby: “Watching the girls swimming and playing outside in the garden with the girls and their friends during the afternoon party…”

And me? My favorite part of the day…it is difficult to decide but probably two bits. One was watching the Princess’s face as she opened her presents from all around the world. And second…Hubby playing in the backyard…Today let me tell you, there was nothing angry in this African!

  Now that is the kind of bucket I am talking about!

I turned 38 last week. Thirty-eight! I have since had a chance to reflect on my somewhat superficial and partly unattainable bucket list published earlier. Let me revise and summarise:

1. Drink champagne in Luxembourg.  Can actually check this off. Although I want to do it again (and planning to spend my 40th birthday in Luxies), I have done so twice already.

2. Go on another African safari. Basically the same as number 1. Have done it before, want to do it again (with a bit more luxury) but can check it off.

3. Learn to ski in Bamff. Seeing as I now have not one but two bum knees, apparently I have to shelve learning to ski or snowboard. But I still want to go to Bamff.

4. Have a (bit) part in the stage production of Grease. Who the hell am I trying to kid or impress here. I can’t sing to save a canary and can barely dance anymore (at one stage I could, you know!) so let us just scrap this completely…

5. See all my friends and family from around the world in one place at one time for a big party! This one is not completely do-able. I can see my friends and family and have a party but not all at once. So I will amend this to friends/family for the party, preferably both groups but different times and different parties will be fine.

6. Live in Tuscany. Ah, a dream for sure and one that I will just have to keep dreaming…if it never comes true…the idea of living in Tuscany will be enough to keep me going…

7. Balance my check book! AH HA! Check that off big time. Did it not once but twice so the first time was not a fluke!

8. Learn to surf (I know, I will have to overcome my fear of the ocean and sharks first!) Okay pal, forget that – with the news around of shark attacks and that video footage of the surfer desperately paddling away from a shark, this item on the bucket list is a gonner!

9. Learn to cook authentic Italian food. I have learned to cook about four dishes so on my way there – consider it checked…

10. Have a dinner party at home with John Travolta, Rubi Wax, Graham Norton, Bill and Hillary and John McEnroe as my guests (of course I would either cook my authentic Italian food or get a caterer!). Hey, no one can say I am not a dreamer – dreams are good you know – it is like a movie in your head…but lets face it…ain’t never going to happen!

11. Leave a legacy for my children… working on this one but it is top secret and I will not divulge anything yet…check back in three years or maybe thirty!

So I still have to think if I am going to add anything more and will write a completely revised list but frankly I am not in the mood for a bucket list but I have another list I think I want to write… it is my F%$#@* List (rhymes with bucket you idiot!). So here goes!

My F*&^#$ List:

1. I am not going to iron anymore unless it is something someone wants to wear now and it comes off the hanger or shelf creased! Life is too short to spend it behind an iron!

2. I will no longer give two hoots about the fact that my boobs now seem to be quite at home around my waistline! Bras are there for a reason and that is to uplift me every day. Hubby loves me and as long as he does not mind it will not matter (but you won’t catch me going to any topless beaches!).

3. No longer will I be concerned about doing housework on a weekend…that is my day job during the week and I will not take my work home with me on weekends!

4. I will go to my ballet class once a week and dance with the fifteen and sixteen year olds in the class and not worry what they think of the old duck at the barre with them. What I have forgotten they have yet to learn and while I can no longer jete across the room or do a triple pirouette, I know that once, twenty years ago, I could do it.

5. Scooping litter is a thing of the past. I have bought an automatic litter scoop and now will sit back and watch the scoop do the poop! The cats are thankful too – it scoops every ten minutes or so!

6. As summer draws to a close, I have only but a few weeks left to get over another obstacle…it is time to walk from the beach chair to the water’s edge proudly to go for swim and not try to cover up until my shoulders are submerged under water – which makes for a tricky task keeping the towel dry! If you don’t like what you see, stop looking!

7. I will not mope about not seeing the last Bon Jovi concert or stress about wanting tickets for another…dancing around in the kitchen on a Saturday morning to “You give love a bad name” in my PJ’s is enough for me!

8. Lastly (for now) another thing about housework…instead of trying to be supermom and supermaid all rolled into one neat little stress ball, I will deligate more…

There you have it…my bucket and f*&^$# list…all rolled into one…oh bollocks…have to iron Hubby’s shirt before work tomorrow!

Forgive me Father reader for I have sinned lapsed. It has been three weeks since my last confession blog entry…

It has been hectic these last three weeks. We went away to Pennsylvania for a weeks vacation and the week prior to leaving was busy. We had swimming lessons, sorting out the basement, getting the cats sorted and getting all our stuff ready for our road trip. We left the Sunday morning two hours behind our schedule but we did not care – we were on holiday! That is the first great thing about a road trip – we had no deadlines – no having to be at the airport at a certain time, no rushing along making tensions rise and making the trip unpleasant for all and sundry. The girls were excited and although the trip was going to be long…they did not care in the slightest – we were going on holiday!

In order to make the trip easier for all of us, we borrowed the portable DVD player from Harriet and it was a wonderful rescue. We only needed it about four hours into our trip when the young one was finding number plate spotting a little boring. We knew she had stuck it out as long as she could, when she said, “I am trying Mom but it is difficult if you can’t read!” So she chose a movie and settled back into her booster seat for the remaining bit of her trip. The eldest daughter was clearly thrilled with getting 28 different states in the trip down to Pennsylvania.

We stayed in a small town called Riegelsville – an small it was. There is one traffic light, one general store, a hotel, and antique dealer and a post office. We had no TV, no phones and strictly speaking no Internet. Actually I became a bit of cyber squatter – someone in the area had a wireless Internet connection and at about 10pm every night, I would log on, download my photos, email my family and log off. So no time to blog and besides, I was on holiday and so was my brain.

We spent a wonderful five days in Bucks County. We explored small towns, ate out at lunch and dinner times, we played games, the kids played in the garden – we laughed, never cried and laughed some more. I saw the happiness in my children’s eyes that we so often miss in the hectic running of our daily lives. Our lives are so hectic that we forget to sit back and listen for the laughter. Even being on summer break at home, we have schedules – orthodontist appointments, swimming lessons, camp, doctor appointments, grocery shopping, waking up at a specific time – the kids laughed and played and for five wonderful days were free of time limits and boundaries and they loved every minute of it. Now, don’t get me wrong, loose routines are things I firmly believe in so that we can have control over our lives but just for one week, it was just spectacular not to set an alarm clock, not to have to worry about being some where on time. We were in control.

So we visited Easton, Frenchtown, Milford, Lambertville, New Hope and of course, Philadelphia! We saw Independence Hall (impressive for us foreigners!), the Liberty Bell, took a horse and coach ride through the streets and, my personal favorite, the Museum of Art. Not just for the Art – I had a more important mission in mind. I WENT UP THE ROCKY STEPS! I watched Rocky I in 1979 when it finally hit the shores of South Africa and watched every Rocky movie since. But that scene in the first one when he runs up those stairs is just one of those iconic moments in movie history. At the bottom of the steps, there is the bronze statue from the movie – erected in all honor as though Rocky Balboa was indeed a real person – a real son of Philly. Now tell me, in your travels, how many bronze statues are up in cities and towns of a fictional character in a movie – would be interesting to know that!

I turned 38 in Pennsylvania and being there with my family was the best present I ever could have asked for. My husband and my children were bugging me about getting me a present and right up until the day, I kept on saying “I have got everything I ever wanted…right here in this week.” To me, it was one of the best weeks of my life ever…

Our road trip home was eventful because we took the scenic route. It added about six hours onto our travel time but the girls were having a blast in the back of the car. We got home at 8pm, ate some dinner and got into bed – so sad for being back in the hustle and bustle of our lives but happy for the rejuvenation that we all experienced – Hubby and both the kiddies – even the four year old!

But on my trip, I learned that cancer had returned to a dear friend of mine and this time it is a bit worse than it was before. My family were lying sound asleep upstairs and I sat watching the sun rising over the fields and thanked God about lucky I was. I had just finished reading the Last Lecture and I think the knowledge I gained from the book and the experience of the week away, has really given me a different perspective. My heart was broken when I heard on Saturday morning that Randy Pausch had died – someone who had touched the lives of so many he did not know, and I cried for someone I had never met.

So we had two quiet days at home and today we hit the ground running again…and tomorrow we will again be caught up in all we have to do but somehow it feels a little different and everything just seems a little less urgent…

This summer is turning out to be everything I did not expect it to be. I thought we were going to have a quiet 12 weeks. Actually, I was worried that we were going to have a quiet 12 weeks. My older daughter is doing film camp towards the end of the month; we are going to Pennsylvania next Monday for a week – a break I am really looking forward to. No phones, no schedules and no televisions – although i am not too sure if my kids are going to fall for this part of the vacation. But I am willing to buy them off with a visit to the Crayola factory and maybe a trip to the zoo!

But back to what has been happening since we went on our break. I signed the girls up for swimming lessons at the pond. It is the most cost effective value for money swimming lessons I have ever come across. The instructors are all super with the kids of all ages, and both my girls look forward to learning the tricks of being bouyant in the water. My youngest has her lesson at 10am and my eldest has her lesson at 11am. We arrive at 10am and set up camp for the morning. Put out mom’s beach chair, lay out the towels, and put on swimming goggles. My younger angel runs to the instructor and then plunges into the water showing no signs of the fear that gripped her earlier in the season. When her lesson is over, my elder daughter and I take her back to her daycare (which is currently like camp). We leave our chair and towels there so that when we return for the next swimming lesson, we still have our little spot in the shade.

There is one big tree that provides shade all morning until about 1:30pm. A spot in the shade is at a premium by 11am so if you can get there when we do and secure your spot, you are set. Because swimming lessons run for three weeks, the same moms and dads arrive every day at the same times to bring their young ones to learn to swim. Like me, many use the lessons as “time at the beach” which lets the young ones enjoy being in the water under the supervision of a well qualified instructor (you see, I am no big swimmer and it has to be REALLY hot for me to actually get in!). Everyday we greet each other politely when we arrive when the gates open for lessons (the swimming public are only allowed in a half hour later) – each of us knowing where our regular spot is and where everyone else sits.

And what from the road running by looks like moms and dads sitting on the beach watching their children swim, has practically taken on a life of its own.

There is “Don’t touch the baby” Mom who herds around her children (especially the youngest daughter) so that other children can’t touch them. I actually overheard her tell her son not to play with the sandcastles another child built – complete with bridges – because “…you don’t know who built them and where they have been!”

“I need public recognition” Mom is there too. Everything she says to her kids is extra loud so that we can hear everything. “Yes, darling, of course you can have your organic, fair trade, local farmer’s market strawberries, while I eat my organically grown whole wheat pasta salad with sprouts,” she enunciates while frowning heavily at “I don’t need sun protection” singed mom who is scoffing nibbling on her M&M ice cream while her son downs a soda in almost one swoop.

There is “silence is golden” dad who has not said one word to his little boy that has not come out as a whisper. Mind you, he is rather good looking and well built so we don’t need him to talk. I saw “Don’t touch the baby” Mom give him the once over when he planted his towel and bag in the middle of us. Brave man! Another dad arrives – I think of him as “ultimate sunblock 500″ – I think he uses about one can of sprayable sunblock a day. With the layers he puts on himself (and I assume his children too), they must be protected to the hilt. I sunblock my children too with nothing less than 75, but layered to the point of your skin actually turning blue, is taking it a little too far. I make sure that if I arrive before him I am not sitting downwind…that spraying sunblock can sure travel…

Me? I sit on my beach chair reading “The Last Lecture” drinking my water quietly while I watch my children frolic. I occasionally arise and go stand in the water, chat to one of the other moms I do know and when my eldest daughter is done, just before we leave for the day, we go and buy some slush. I am sure though that in the other parents’ minds I too must be an oddball. “She speaks funny and sits all day” Mom – that’s me!

An tomorrow this beach bee-itch will be back, in my usual spot, looking for the usual suspects…

I could hardly keep up with the news in the world this week. Our summer schedules have suddenly taken on a whole new dimension. The laundry now lies on the folding table, a forgotten pile of tumble dried entwined cotton and linen. The empty picture frames waiting for their fill of memories and family pics, lying abandoned on the dining room table; I think my kids think the generic family picture that comes with the frame when you buy it, IS actually our family back in South Africa.

The reason for all this newly found independence from household chores? The kids have started swimming lessons down by the lake. The younger one is at 10-ish and the older one is at 11:30 so I end up spending three hours down on the ‘beach’ at the water’s edge, pretending that I have no work to be done at home. I read a few pages of my book, eat a delicious slush, take a quick swim and then return home at around 1:30 just when the heat is getting to its peak and the beach starts becoming crowded. The timing is perfect. I am cultivating a very careful tan…it is amazing that you still burn (face it, when your skin changes color, it BURNS not tans) even when you are using sun protection factor 75!!!! The kids are as fair and unburnt as ever…three layers of SPF 75 works really well!

Last weekend was July 4th, and we spent the weekend quietly celebrating the independence of our new home. We had the obligatory BBQ. South African hubby, South African wife and a guest born in England and raised in Australia. We sat around watching all our American neighbors celebrating how they defeated the British and established their own country. We quietly observed these celebrations fearing some one shouting “The British are coming” and then proceeding to lynch the closest thing to the British which they can find (please read previous posts about how British/Australian etc I really am – anything but American). Fireworks are not permitted in our state but people travel down to other neighboring states to make purchases and then come home to light up their corner of a dark July 4th sky. They celebrate their American independence lighting their fireworks made in China, wearing their clothes made in Vietnam or Malaysia and at the end of the evening they get in to their Japanese cars and drive home to sleep on their beds made in Indonesia. Ah, independence is such a wonderful thing!

The rest of the weekend passed with much gardening being done, swims, baking, eating and the last of our little family of four suffering from a tummy bug Hubby brought home from his visit to China two weeks ago. I advocate sharing in my house – as wise Barney says, “Sharing is a special way of caring!”. But I hate it when Hubby takes it all so literally and feels that he has to share everything with us. He had it first (we put it down to jet lag), I got it a day later (we put it down to being exhausted), little one got it the worst on Thursday night (I could not put it down to anything) and then the older daughter came down with it on the Sunday. Thanks Mr Travelling Pants! We all got a little more of a taste of China than what we wanted.

So this week has been all about spending hours at the beach in hot humid weather, eating cool and delicious dinners and thanking the powers that be everyday that some bright spark had the brains to invent air conditioning! We had a huge thunderstorm tonight that was supposed to cool things down but that little plan did not really work out like it was supposed to. But another storm is brewing, getting ready for tomorrow night…after 18 years, I am putting my ballet shoes back on and attempting to at least look like a dancer. Whether I can actually do it, well that is another story for another blog…provided that my muscles do not completely seize up and totally incapacitate me!

…or not…or give it to them undercooked…yes…undercooked because that would seal a miserable day!

Okay so a week or more has passed since my horrific brunch experience and I am still bitter…can you tell? In retrospect I should have written this piece a lot earlier when I was angrier but with Hubby being in China, entertaining girls during the summer vac, deciding to change my entire house around, I have not had much time to write…happy though, the playroom has been moved to the basement room and I now have a study with a window!

So we went to the establishment at 10:30 – that was the actual time we sat down. We ordered by 10:40 because I knew that the big rush would start around 11:30 and I wanted us to be practically done by then. We got our juices and waited patiently for our delicious brunch. And that we did – waited and waited and waited. While Hubby and I entertained the girls (who were very well behaved) six other tables sat down around us and ordered too. It was 11:25 when I started getting a little annoyed that breakfast had not even shown signs of arriving. How long does it take to make four breakfasts? The six later tables were already eating by 11:35 when I called the waitress over. She look flustered and disappeared with promises of finding our food and serving us pronto…ah…promises…such empty promises…

The manager – looking like a rabbit caught in head lights – made his way to our table…

“Sorry for the long wait…you have been very patient…your food is in the window, I will bring you more bread…” and with that she shuffled off to the window, I so wrongly presumed…But the question is…where was the window – down at the Cape? He never returned with the promised bread or the food.

By 11:45 I was standing behind my chair desperately trying to attract the attention of anyone who looked like they worked at this factory…but no one would make eye contact with me, not even the busboy who cleared the table next to us with his back turned to us, just in case I caught his eye.

And then the trumpets sounded and the manager walked out holding three plates of food…yippeee it must be ours. He avoided eye contact and walked straight past me to another later table and served them. I stared him down until the piercing firey daggers emanating from my eyes gave him no other choice by to turn around. I mouthed NOW! because by now I had completely lost my patience with him, the chefs/cooks (I still would say chefs until the food actually did come), the waitress and anyone else who had their emblem emblazoned on their work shirts.

After a wide detour Head Light Rabbit made his way to our table. He came with food. A good offering to the Goddess of Lets Start Throwing Some Plates Around. The children were relieved and hungry. We tucked in. However, looking down at my plate I saw fried eggs and not poached as I had ordered. But it was now about principal. If you are going to make me wait ONE HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES for my breakfast, you damn well get the order right. My plate disappeared into the black hole of the kitchen, maybe forever. Ten minutes later it reappeared. I tucked into the poached eggs. I raised the fork to my mouth and took a bite – the eggs were cold and were RAW! I spat them out into the bowl behind the napkin – very dignified in an undignified situation. I looked up at my eldest daughter who had turned green.

“I ate some eggs and my stomach turned Mom, the eggs are raw.”

I took her to the bathroom in case she wanted to throw up. Heaven knows, I felt like doing that. I came back to the table and announced to Hubby, on Father’s Day, that brunch was officially over – it was now 12:45, I had not eaten anything and I think I would have had better service and food at a roadside shack. Hubby took the two kids to the car, while I marched off to the cowering Rabbit standing hiding behind the pillar at the cash register. Rabbit said that they had not expected the rush.

“Rush?” I asked astonished. “Are you kidding me, it is Father’s Day, and from where I am standing I count let’s see, one, two, three……fifteen empty tables? How many can you seat in this place?”

“Two hundred…” he said slowly.

“Then you should be able to feed and serve two hundred.”

I was keen to get my kids home and try to salvage what was left of the day. Rabbit deducted the two big breakfasts, I paid and left. At home, I was furious for myself when I looked at the bill again. I had paid for two breakfasts which were not eaten, one of those I paid for contained raw eggs too. I paid for coffees I had ordered for after brunch which were not even served yet. I logged onto the company website and wrote my complaint – dignified but furious at the disastrous day.

Four days passed and no word. I looked up some consumer complaints websites. Friday night, at 6pm my phone rang. Another manager from said restaurant. Apologies and acceptance of dropping the ball on their part were abundant. I was pleased. But no refund of my $55-00 for a non-existent breakfast. But instead a gift card in the mail. Not sure I will be eating there again but they are known for their cheesecake and I might just spend the card on that.

So, yes, I am having cake…hopefully it is not underbaked…