It's no coincidence that these should all fall on the same day. Telling the truth will require forgiveness from someone, which can be solved with the feel good drug chocolate.
So today I'm going to be honest (not that it has stopped me before).
I've been lying to everyone for years... I don't like Kylie Minogue's songs. I know as an Australian girl I should be Spinning Around while doing the Locomotion thinking I'm So Lucky, but I can't. They just don't do it for me.
Also I must confess that in primary school I was a klepto for books. Year 3 I stole the Secret Garden activity book, Year 4 the Jolly Postman, Year 5 a book about Egypt. There were others but I can't remember the names. In all instances I kept them in my school bag until the end of the year and it was too late to return them.
Today, I'm going to forgive.
Hubby, you smell like a pickled herring but I forgive you since you had a good birthday celebration. And I forgive you for leaving your clothes and underwear all over the bedroom floor, everyday. I enjoy the obstacle course as I stagger out of our room in the dark to your daughter's room for late night feeds. Keeps me on my toes.
Mini Me, I'll forgive that you cry for 20 minutes to tell me you're tired. It's okay, don't solve the problem by going to sleep.
Mum, I'll forgive you for making a three course meal of deliciousness for Hubby's birthday lunch that I can't ignore, but later makes me hate myself for being an addict to your chicken cutlets. And I'll forgive myself too for doing it.
And all the people I feel have wronged me. The friends who've annoyed me, the person who stole the last of whatever I wanted at morning teas, the selfish road users who cut me off, Emirates (you know why), mining giants that gave too many uneducated people inflated wages making them feel entitled to act like cavepeople; and Perth prices, I forgive you. The slate is clean. Let's try again.
Hubby, you smell like a pickled herring but I forgive you since you had a good birthday celebration. And I forgive you for leaving your clothes and underwear all over the bedroom floor, everyday. I enjoy the obstacle course as I stagger out of our room in the dark to your daughter's room for late night feeds. Keeps me on my toes.
Mini Me, I'll forgive that you cry for 20 minutes to tell me you're tired. It's okay, don't solve the problem by going to sleep.
Mum, I'll forgive you for making a three course meal of deliciousness for Hubby's birthday lunch that I can't ignore, but later makes me hate myself for being an addict to your chicken cutlets. And I'll forgive myself too for doing it.
And all the people I feel have wronged me. The friends who've annoyed me, the person who stole the last of whatever I wanted at morning teas, the selfish road users who cut me off, Emirates (you know why), mining giants that gave too many uneducated people inflated wages making them feel entitled to act like cavepeople; and Perth prices, I forgive you. The slate is clean. Let's try again.
And of course I'm going to eat chocolate.
How about you?
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