Wednesday, 28 August 2013

A Genuinely Really Real Housewife.

Hello! Long time no blog.  We have so much to catch up on...

After a recent house move, Mr D, (who is a charming gentleman of British descent,) has decided that he absolutely cannot survive another year in this hideous country without being able to access the 90 minute televisual spectacle of men in shorts chasing a ball around a field climaxing in a thrilling nil-nil draw that is the English Premier League.  In order to view this magnificently exciting, (excuse me while I pause to yawn), display of sportsmanship, one must donate an extraordinarily generous sum of money on a monthly basis to old Mr Murdoch and his Evil Empire.

Despite much moral protestation about supporting the 'Evil' or potentially having to abandon poor Alexandra, our grubby-faced Ecuadorian World Vision Sponsor Child in order to pay for this extravagance, the arrival of the facility to watch 400 hundred channels of crap has spawned a new secret guilty pleasure. The Real Housewives.

Like excessive masturbation or eating Nutella straight from the jar, this new found guilt-inducing indulgence is so bad but just sooooo good.  Whether they're the 'Real Housewives' of the OC, Miami, Vancouver or New Jersey, these women with their spray-on dresses, big hair and tennis ball-sized diamonds are an inanely fascinating display of extravagance, self-indulgence and really bad plastic surgery.

I am a housewife (although I do prefer to be referred to as the CEO- Domestic Management Division) and I am 'keeping it real' as they apparently like to say in the 'hood.  Therefore, technically I am a 'Real Housewife'.  Surely the producers were taking the mickey with they coined the title 'Real Housewives'?  From their surgically chiseled noses and pneumatic breasts to their six-martini lunch dates where they nibble on a sprig of parsley while dissecting the latest saga in their 'Real' lives, I am yet to find one iota of resemblance to my experience as a genuinely really real housewife.

I'm thinking of pitching for my own reality show; 'The Genuinely Really Real Housewives of Hampton'.  It will be riveting.

Here's a transcript of this morning's episode. (To protect the innocent I have renamed myself 'Brandy' and my kids, 'Mandy' and 'Andy'.  Mr D is 'Randy'.)

The Genuinely Really Real Housewives of Hampton. Episode 1. Scene 1.

7.45am-  Mandy and Andy are in their pyjamas.  Randy is on the laptop reading about world news and current affairs while drinking a cup of tea.

Brandy pulls her size 18 tracksuit pants out of the dirty laundry basket and shakes off the excess dog hair. She has no time to bathe therefore takes what is commonly known as a 'deodorant shower'. (She later realises she has accidentally mistaken the Rexona for the spray-in dry shampoo but is relieved her armpit stubble will at least appear refreshed.)

Brandy (shouting): 'Get dressed!'
Mandy (whining): 'I don't want to get dressed'.
Andy: 'Do train drivers eat toast?'

8am- Brandy is simultaneously making breakfast, eating breakfast, preparing a packed lunch, plaiting Mandy's hair, searching for socks, shouting at the dog and checking Facebook.  Randy is on the laptop reading about world news and current affairs.  He continues to drink his tea.

Brandy (shouting): 'Where are your bloody shoes? Where are your bloody socks? Get dressed!'
Mandy (whining): 'I don't want to get dressed'.
Andy: Do pelicans get scared when they go on trains?

8.15am-  Randy is on the laptop reading about world news and current affairs.  He finishes his cup of tea with a satisfied 'Aaaah'.

Brandy (shouting): 'Where are your bloody shoes? Go and brush your teeth. Go and brush your teeth now.  If you don't brush your bloody teeth now they will all fall out and the Tooth Fairy won't leave you any money. Where are my bloody shoes?'
Mandy (whining): 'I don't want to brush my teeth or put my shoes on.'
Andy: 'Do rainbows breathe?'

8.20am- Brandy is searching for her keys, tying Mandy's school tie, filling drink bottles, feeding the dog and applying concealer to the eye bags caused by six years of extreme sleep deprivation.  Randy is on the toilet.

Brandy (shouting): 'Get in the car. Get in the car. Get in the car. Get in the car. Get in the bloody car.'
Mandy (whining): 'I don't want to get in the car'
Andy: 'Do train drivers sometimes go in cars?'
Randy to Brandy: 'Why are you so bloody grumpy in the mornings?'

Now that's what I call a televisual spectacular.  Stay tuned for the next exciting episode where Brandy picks up the dog shit from the lawn and then watches 'Real Housewives' while eating Nutella directly from the jar.

Keepin' it real.

1 comment:

  1. More please Mrs Drew. I just stumbled across this again . . . x