As Spring creeps up on me I find it all very bittersweet, it's my little girls birthday and the time I became a parent but also the time I lost a Mum and it would have been her birthday. Throw in a barrage of Mother's Day adverts and I'm an emotional wrecking ball a few bad decisions away from being escorted out of Boots for shouting that a 'moisturiser gift pack won't bring her back dammit'. I have my own kids now, with my own homemade cards and my own flowers to thank me for wiping up their arses everyday. Things are looking up. The good outweighs the bad and maybe Spring can be a celebration of life once again. Then you unashamed bringers of doom, I'm talking about you the scientists of time, decide to thieve an hour of precious sleep from me on Mother's Day. STOP PLAYING GOD.
Who voted for this anyway? I didn't. Forget Brexit, this needs to be addressed but not by Parliament because I'd like it to get sorted out during my life time. Give the job to a group of parents who have just got their kid down for a nap. Running on adrenaline and borrowed time they can do anything. In fact throw us Brexit as well we'll get that tidied up and all the MP's snacks prepared before 3.30pm.
Take that hour and I'm striking, except the kids don't recognise my union. Bloody toddler Tories.
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