Day Thirty - mule in the bed

Sleeping with a three year old is not a pleasant experience. At face value, that kind of sentence is the sort of thing that gets you barred from Facebook. And in my case, something similar I've written somewhere probably has. I am in fact banned from both Facebook and Instagram and I've no idea why.

Not that I've ever used either. But in the process of registering they both said 'eff off'.

Just goes to show how unreasonable these moderators are.

Anyway, back to my point. Sleeping with children sucks. The littler they are, the worse the experience. Big time.

If anyone is wondering why the child that kicked me in the nuts suddenly has no arms, then you've probably skipped a few days and missed out on the fact that my alter-ego for the fat around my body is an eight year old version of Loki. And so far, I've lost enough weight that is the equivalent of his wrists and hands to the elbows.

Point is - whatever time of day it is, there's some kind of niggling in your brain that says 'have a cracker' or 'those biscuits look nice'. But only when you're on a diet. If you're not on a diet, that doesn't happen. And the forbidden can be easily ignored.

Maybe because you're full on all the crap you've had earlier. That might be it.