This boy needs therapy


Guest House Paradiso

5:45pm. I have just returned home, my pockets bulging and my arms stretching from the weight of, in no particular order:

  • 2 litres of Apple/Blackcurrant juice
  • 2 litres of milk
  • 2 potatoes of the ilk that the supermarket describes as "Nadine" – one moderately large, and one absolutely fucking enormous – as big as my hand, though not as conveniently shaped
  • DVD of Guest House Paradiso
  • 4 Granny Smith apples
  • 1 cos lettuce (why? ‘Cos…)
  • 2 tomatoes
  • 6 slices of chicken loaf for Isaac’s school sandwiches
  • Star Wars: The Phantom Menace DVD, complete with the limited edition flimsy cardboard sleeve  
  • Italian herb sausages
  • enough chocolate to well and truly keep me going until the next time Safeway has Cadbury stuff on sale
  • honey (yes dear?)
  • a packet of the kids’ favourite almost-meal-in-a-box, Kraft Macaroni cheese
  • 5 bread rolls
  • plus a Bill Bryson book I’d left the house with

Not bad, especially travelling on foot.

Most of this stuff I’d normally bring home anyway on a Sunday afternoon as part of my shopping ritual. I ended up with the DVDs because… ummm… well, because there were some pretty damn good discounts at K-Mart today, and according to my schedule of buying one per month, I was due for another one. The other can be next month’s. Or maybe it could be a reward to myself for having to work a not-insignificant minority of the weekend. Yeah. Retail therapy. That’s it.

Of course, retail therapy sounds a bit… well – girly – doesn’t it. Something about boys and their toys would probably go better at this point. Whatever.

The Phantom Menace is one of many movies I meant to see when it was in the cinema, but never got around to. Okay, so going out and buying the DVD may seem a bit extreme, but if you consider that OKAY, OKAY, I GOT SUCKED IN BY ALL THE HYPE, OKAY?!? Phew.

Guest House Paradiso is another movie I’ve been meaning to see for a while now. It’s a spin-off of the Bottom TV-series, which is one of my favourites.

10pm. And it’s damn funny, too. The kind of unpredictable, brainless juvenile movie that’s great for relaxing with on a Sunday night and having a bloody good laugh. Who knows, it might even inspire some new Ron & Jeff.

Of course, there was me thinking I had extra hour before I should get to bed. But that’s only because I haven’t switched most of the household clocks to summer time yet… Damn.

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