This Is What Happens When……

So, I have decided to show you a photo of what happens when you let a four year old dress herself. Now please keep in mind she is four and has full access to her own (and my) wardrobe. She loves to wear make-up (I don’t) and wear my perfume (no matter how expensive) 

So one day me and the sister decided it would be interesting to see what would happen if we let her dress herself, so here goes……

dressed herself

 

Yup, this had nothing to do with me and neither does the biscuit crumbs on the poof, that was the other little creature!!!!

So, what happens when your dress themself?!

Please Help, I Think I Need New Legs?!

Its true, please, I think I just need new legs then it will all be sorted. Promise!

Okay, so maybe I did too much walking today, maybe I should have sat down for two a bun or something, but in my defence I did take my stick.

So that makes its okay.

Conscience wise anyway.

Not sure my legs, hips or back will understand.

Those three body parts are incredibly judgemental, they also don’t act there age, I think they may have forgotten they are 23 and not 70, you could say wise beyond there time. I simply say, shit. 

Its days like these, that I want to enjoy, I end up regretting the most. Not because I spent them with Hubby, no, that would be easy. I would have left him at home. No its because I end up paying the price for spending time doing something other than popping to the shops, or playing with the girls.

It really makes me angry that I am sat here living with this stupid, inconsiderate disease. I don’t know why I am bloody angry, its a wasted emotion because there is nothing I can do.

So a lovely day, going round the shops in a local town, finding an amazing second hand dress and still not being able to afford it, has ended up in me sitting at home with a hot water bottle and support pillow, eating  two huge ice buns and sobbing about the dress.

God I feel sick. God I want that dress.

So, tomorrow looks like a day to abuse the Gabapentin and the Husband. Poor man, patience of a wasp saint.

Oh, also don’t tell my MS Nurse about this. Its better she doesn’t know!!

Also I am aware I do not “pop” anywhere, the term “limp aimlessly” did not fit right.