TGIF, continuing the Stuff To Read While Waiting To Clock Out On A Friday Afternoon tradition:
1) In case you needed more encouragement saying no to fast-food (crap, nuggets is the one thing Rockstar orders at Mc Donalds’): Fast food workers of Reddit tell you what not to eat
2) Meet The Anti-Cheating Ring – Because the only reason a man cheats is the ring. Yes sarcasm. Much.
3) Text messages from a dog. Someone please ask him what he thinks about the anti-cheating ring.
The Mens will provide pictures for our Friday viewing pleasure. Sort of.
Rockstar in some pasar malam Harry Potter props my mum brought with her (seriously, her handbag is a bottomless pit of boh liau toys to entertain her only grandson – how does she, 30 years older than me, not have back problems when I do?), but what I see is child Phua Chu Beng! Phua Chu Beng! May he grow up to be Pierre Png. No, not the hunky-ness, the donating of his liver to then-girlfriend Andrea De Cruz, and the saving of unwanted and abandoned dogs.
Then at a 7-11, he thought this guy was doing the same:
I don’t know who this guy is, and obviously I can’t read what it says. If this guy turns out to be someone who doesn’t like my 4.5 year old calling him Harry Potter then <small voice> he didn’t mean it please.
Ok, Kings’ turn.
Kings had to go for a colonoscopy and some other tests recently, including one for sleep apnea. This isn’t really a new thing, over the years his blood test results have ranged from bad to appalling. Either his triglycerides and cholesterol are through the roof (as in a number of 2.4 is desirable and his will be 24.9) or he has nasty-sounding things like Severe Fatty Liver (apparently it’s ok to call your organs FAT). But this has got to be the first time my husband erm, “camwhores” a sleep test, like so:
No, he hasn’t fallen over and hit his head on something hard, thereby mistaking himself for some sweet young blogger with superb photoshop skills. Those are pics he sent Rockstar, on a recent Whatsapp-ing conversation from the hospital (good spelling practice for the Rockstar I guess but you seriously have to be very patient as he goes “Where’s ‘R’? Where’s ‘L’? on my iPhone. And “How do you spell…………” all the time).
We kept wanting to go visit, but apparently it’s near some infectious disease ward and the people constantly walking about coughing and hacking into face masks seriously freaked the hot husband out. Ah well:
Rockstar: What’s a colonoscopy, Mummy?
Me: They put a little tube with a camera inside Daddy’s intestines to take a look around.
Rockstar: Did they find lots of potato chips?
Kings inhales large bags of potato chips, usually the full-fat ones because they’re easier to find, and yes, of course this is now going to have to stop because his liver has been inconsiderate enough to his chip habit to get FAT.
Also, Rockstar wanted to bring the pics of the insides of Kings’ intestines for summer camp show n tell, we said no. (So gross, thought to spare his poor classmates and teachers…….)
Good weekend, dears…