Creases

Once, at the suggestion of @SAHDandproud, I didn’t bother ironing my whole shirt. I just did the front of it and kept my suit jacket on.

That was the most action my iron had seen in quite some time. Slovenliness thy name is Lewis.

I once worked with a woman who ironed EVERY item of clothing. Including socks. She also ironed her towels and tea towels. That’s weird isn’t it? Or is it normal?

Creases do not usually bother me. Why would I want to spend lots of time ironing things when they only get creased again as soon as I put them on? The time I would spend ironing can be redistributed, used for things I want to do. Like spouting inanities on Twitter, bemoaning the increased price of a Freddo bar or wondering what happened to white dog poo.

Creases in clothes I can live with. It’s the creases in Cam which I am finding concerning.

He’s a chubby little baby. His thighs are enormous. His face has a surplus of chin. At last count there were six of them, nestling under his jaw. I assume he still has the neck we used to see, but I can’t be certain he hasn’t sold it on eBay without telling us.

With chub comes creases. They’re like a free gift. Like the ones you used to get in cereal boxes. Actually, you still do get them, they’re just rubbish now.

“Free bag sealing clip in every pack”

Well, woo and hoo. I bet all the kids are swapping their bag sealing clips in the playgrounds of the nation, desperate to collect all six. That or surreptitiously throwing them in the bin, while simultaneously developing a deep seated loathing of Kelloggs.

Anyway, yes, free creases with your fat.

Trouble is, nestled within those creases is angry looking red skin, flakes of scrot and general fluffy miscellany. All things which hide away from us, quietly festering. Especially in this uncharacteristically warm weather we’re having now. I dread to think what manner of microbial beasties could be living out a life of sweaty luxury in the soft folds of my son’s blubber.

Google suggests we are not alone in having a creasy baby. Others describe similar situations for their own offspring. In bad cases the folds can apparently emit a smell similar to a strong cheese.

Ack.

Nasty.

What, I ask of you, is the solution?

Removing the creases is not it: he is too small for even the tiniest of gym equipment, and I’m pretty sure ironing a baby is likely to get me a custodial sentence.

Treatment then. Last night we applied Sudocrem to the sore looking area. Will the magic cream help, or simply act as the agar jelly to The Creature’s Petri dish? If he smells of Gorgonzola this evening I will know the answer.

As ever, your suggestions are both welcome and appreciated, thanks for reading.

Cloaking Devices

Do any of you watch Star Trek?

In Star Trek, some of the spaceships have a thing called a cloaking device. For those of you who don’t watch Star Trek, a cloaking device somehow renders the gigantic spaceship invisible. This is useful for sneaking up on other spaceships and then surprising them with lasers and whatnot.

I don’t think the Starship Enterprise has a cloaking device. Kirk and Co would never resort to such dastardly tactics as being invisible.

Despite any possible reservations one may have regarding the use of invisibility, there’s no arguing about the fact that it is impressive on a technological level.

What’s even more impressive is some clever souls have obviously started using cloaking devices on their cars.

Yes, this is an example of science fiction being an accurate predictor of real life technology. Other examples include the internet, the mobile phone and Spam (which was clearly modelled on Soylent Green).

Anyway, here’s how to get a cloaking device on your car:

1. Buy a car which is either silver or grey. Preferably it is also an Audi, BMW or Mercedes.
2. Wait for a time when it is raining really hard. If you live in England in 2012 I can highly recommend WHENEVER.
3. Go out in the car and find a road with lots of spray. For best results this is usually a motorway.
4. This one’s important: DO NOT USE YOUR LIGHTS.

Hey presto! Your car is now invisible!

Now, get yourself in the outside lane and engage warp drive. Don’t worry, no Police can see you, you’re cloaked, remember?

Outside lane a bit too flighty for you? Then consider this: you can spend your whole journey in the middle lane! The magic of the middle lane is that you’re never in anyone’s way! Not at all! Especially in your INVISIBLE car.

The Highway Code doesn’t specifically preclude the use of cloaking devices, but it does say that you MUST use your headlights in periods of reduced visibility. Like heavy rain.

I’ve always found it disturbing to see people barrelling along the motorway in the rain, with no lights on, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they are nearly invisible to all around them. I find it massively more disturbing now that I sometimes have Cam in the car with me.

I don’t want to have a crash because some people aren’t capable of recognising the dangers of behaving like a Klingon. I don’t want me, or my son, or anyone else (even a Klingon) to be rendered dead or horribly squished just because they can’t be arsed flicking their lights on.

I’m fairly certain that none of my beautiful, intelligent, sexy beyond compare readership are driving in the rain without their lights turned on. But, just in case any of those who are happen across my blog via some bizarre Google search:

IF IT IS RAINING REALLY HARD AND YOU ARE DRIVING YOUR CAR, TURN THE FUCKING HEADLIGHTS ON AND STOP BEING A TOTAL PRICK.

Thanks.