The Unsung Mum woke this morning feeling pretty rad. The Spratts between them only woke twice and even though she was awake most of the night wondering if one of them had been Sprattnapped or eaten by zombies, she feels weirdly refreshed.
That changed pretty quickly thought when The Hub mentioned the word ‘Shopping.’
“No,” replies The Unsung Mum. The Unsung Mum hates food shopping with a passion. Unless it’s after eight pm and she can go alone and casually look round the aisles without having to check what The Kid has sneaked into the basket or search every clothing rail for a hidden baby.
“Well I could go alone…”
‘Not on your life buster’ The Unsung Mum thinks. See, The Unsung Mum sees The Hubs day off as a day off for her. She looks forward to that one day a week where she can share responsibility and not fully have to parent.
After failing to fold a non bending baby into a trolley, The Unsung Mum concedes and lets her sit in the front, on the condition that she holds on. The Unsung Mum is fully aware that The Baby is only two and won’t do what she asks, but at this stage, she’s already loosing the will to live.
Super organized Hub, who believe lists should rule the world, left The Unsung Mum in charge to go hunt down the beans, the only five a day ‘vegetable’ The Spratts will defiantly eat.
Cue a Spratt meltdown where mountains of cans become a river and a simple parsnip is now a wand, waved around at a very hacked off looking old person.
The Unsung Mum wishes she could blame The Hub for this crap but annoying remembers both nights The Spratts where conceived. She wonders if anyone has ever tried sueing Jacobs Creek?
After dispatching the tutting begayde with the middle finger, The Unsung Mum storms off looking for her long lost husband, who she finds scanning the biscuit aisle.
“Your turn,’ says The Unsung Mum. The Unsung Mum has had enough of this shit already and they’ve only done one aisle.
After what The Unsung Mum thinks is a good length of time for The Hub to get a good idea of what being a parent is all about, she wonders around and finally spots him at the check out.
The Unsung Mum can’t stand this bit. She gets all sweaty when they shove it all through and stare at her while she packs the bleach with the fruit. The Unsung Mum never used to fold under pressure, but apparently there is a packing etiquette that everyone knows except her.
The Unsung Mum decides to wait at the other end till the painful packing is done. She knows it’s cruel to watch The Spratts run riot while The Hub loads the shopping on to the belt, but she can’t help it. The Unsung Mum is not perfect you know.
“Do you need help love? Gosh you’re doing such a great job; your wife is lucky to have you.”
The Unsung Mum is pretty sure that this is the same woman that gave her the ‘devil eyes’ ten minutes ago during The Kids best Harry Potter impression.
This got The Unsung Mum thinking. It wasn’t long ago that she had been shat on by The Baby at a local café. Low and behold, The Unsung Mum found the baby changing rooms out of order, and as they where sat outside by themselves, decided to change The Baby on the floor.
The Unsung Mum still remembers the utter humiliation when the only lady sat inside came out and told her to change The Baby in the toilets next time. Burn.
She still wonders now why fellow matriarchs can’t just be nice to each other. The funny thing is that The Hub took The Spratts to the exact same place last week and was told what a bang up dad he was for changing The Baby. On the floor. Outside.
The Unsung Mum didn’t think much of it then but stood facing ‘The Injustice’ at hand now felt slightly sick. She knows she’s pretty cynical by natural but has she really got so used to being scrutinized for jobs that The Hub is praised for?
The Unsung Mum decides that society puts too much fucking pressure on women to be perfect while putting really low parenting expectations on men.
“Screw that,” says The Unsung Mum as she makes The Hub push the trolley AND try and fail to keep two Spratts in line.
The Unsung Mum thinks The Hub is amazing on a daily basis and would happily sing his praises all day long. In return, she wonders if society could balance itself out a bit, and praise mothers for doing a bang up job instead of criticizing them.
The Unsung Mum is pretty sure that if kindness between matriarchs happened more, she’d probably eat less cake and not get so smashed on Pinot every night.