Questions, questions, everywhere!

Meryl Streep can do no wrong in my peepers. She’s a legend. 

I woke up this morning thinking about her – wondering, if the world and its mother adore Meryl, who then, is Ms Streeps favourite actress? Out of the blue, all of a sudden, Meryl singing memes were everywhere. I’m not saying myself and Meryl are simpatico but, I like to see this ‘coincidence’ as a sure fire sign that we would be besties.  She would arrive early, Chianti in hand,  for my famous and hilarious (in my head) karaoke, dead or alive dinner party.  C’Mon, we’ve all played this game. She’d surely be the life and soul. I know she’d crack Obama up. Not too sure about Sylvia Plath, mind you. Her duet with Gandhi would rock the block!


You see, I’m full of questions lately. Questions of recent note include – 


Question one: When will I ever care about shaving my legs again?


I give it another month or four, depending on that one day of Summer we have. I’m holding out for September, just as the kids go back to school. It’s always Summer then. Meanwhile, I’m treating the hair growth as insulation. Just like breastfeeding, look at the money I’ll save on waxing. I know, my lucky hubby!


Question two: Can i get my spectacles alarmed?


I couldn’t find my glasses for half the day last week.  And I’m as blind as a white cat with a blue eye. The cruel irony of having a dark sofa and black glasses revealed itself to me in all its glory. I searched everywhere, including inside the sofa. Danger. Never do this. And just like that, perched high up on the chair arm and gazing down at me, on my increasingly flustered hands and knees, were my glasses. If inanimate objects could talk. Let’s  just say I felt I was being judged from a height by these all seeing spec’s.  We usually play this game of hide and seek at least twice a day. In the end, I always forgive her stinking  attitude because I need her so much more than she needs me.


I spend a lot of time searching for misplaced objects around the house; batteries from the remote, baby wipes, the vacuum cleaner. Actually, that last bit’s not true. That’s the one object in the house I know exactly where it is and keep it safely locked away, just in case my partner in crime has notions that I’ll add daily hoovering to my domestic duties! What? Do people actually have the time to vacuum daily?  But, there’s so many books in the world and things to Google!


Recently, the most annoying part of losing my glasses was… i just couldn’t seem to remove a large blonde blade of hair that was attached to my bra.  It was playing havoc with my nursing. No matter where i moved, this piece of long, thin hair followed me and I couldn’t see clearly enough to remove it. I performed the find and grab routine around the sitting room. I had Babybear in one arm with one unleashed boob, trying to grab the elusive hair. No joy. It wasn’t until i walked into the natural light of the window, i realised it wasn’t a hair at all – but a milk duct that simply wouldn’t turn off. Like a thin, milky, threadlike arched rogue spray.


Question Three: How will I fit working, doing actual paid work, into my day?


It’s so busy already – between the spectacle searches, and the dinner making, and the googling. How will i get out the door? Also, when will i be able to leave the house looking presentable without white gloopy or green sticky residue on me?  


I know once I answer a question, with a question. It’s over. The game’s  up. No point in getting overwhelmed.


So instead, I open Safari and find the answer to my most pressing question. I’m horrified. Blasphemy. Turns out, according to my search engine – Cate Blanchett is the new Meryl Streep.  And there’s even some anti-Streep pages too. Say it isn’t so! But, she gets a standing ovation wherever she goes. Eating her breakfast deserves a Tony award. It’s Meryl.


Everything I have known to be true and good in  the world becomes shaky. There you go. You go to bed thinking one thing, the next day it’s something else.


I’ll always love Meryl though. But according to my conclusive research, not as much as Meryl hearts her favourite actress Viola Davis.

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