Revelations of a Slummy Mummy

There’s a small five word phrase that’s banded around a fair bit by us (less than reputable) parents. We normally wrap it round our dubious parenting techniques to justify our behaviour like the only limp lettuce leaf in our ‘healthy’ option BLT sarnie. Treating our little darlings to a nice hot bubbly soak in the tub; translation- seeing how much child-free time we can possibly steal to snatch a hot cuppa or a five-sentence conversation with the hubby. This often results in small, cold, raisin-like children removing themselves from the bath when they feel the first chills of hypothermia beginning to set in. The stealth off each morning as small people emerge one by one in your bed, apparently materialising from nowhere and clambering all over your poor tired self. You pull off an Oscar worthy performance, so convincing your other half actually believes you to still be asleep and surrendering to the epic foot in the face manoeuvre admits defeat and gets up. Score. And the