Magoo got her first wobbly tooth a couple of months ago

And that tooth has stayed wobbly ALL THAT TIME

She wouldn’t let me yank it out, or even go near it

Two words – kill joy

When I left for the Queensland tour, I made her promise to not lose the tooth while I was gone

Knowing full well that it would fall out when it was good and ready. She’d have no say in when

So when I got home, I was surprised to see it still hanging in there

And I mean HANGING in there

Grody to the maximus

Her new tooth had completely grown in behind the wobbler

That old tooth was WAY beyond overstaying it’s welcome

Then the night I got home?

Shazam! That fucker fell out

She woke up the next morning and it was gone. We had to hunt for it in her bed.

The next night she was giddy with excitement that the tooth fairy was FINALLY going to come and visit her

After coming to see her sister EIGHT TIMES already (that girl has enough for a deposit on a house with all her stashed tooth fairy money)

Diamond & I did the stealth sneak into Magoo’s room

And in the middle of sprinkling glitter over her bed, leaving an “I lost my 1st tooth” certificate, and removing the tooth from under the pillow (yeah, I know….we’re nuts)

She sat up in bed. WIDE AWAKE

Fuck

Diamond and I should have been in the special forces we hit the deck so quickly

“Toof fairy…are you here?”

I was so tempted to answer in my best tooth fairy voice, “…yes, now go back to sleep. And remember to make your Mummy breakfast in the morning because she is the greatest”

But I thought she might get suspicious that the tooth fairy had an 80 year old chain-smoking man’s voice – just like her Mum

So for once, I stayed silent

She laid back down

Diamond & I waited, on the floor – in the dark – for-fucking-ever, until we heard the gently roar of her snoring

Then we put the certificate on her nightstand, threw the money, dumped out all the glitter – and booked it out of there before she woke up again

Mission accomplished….huzzah!!

She was SO FUCKING HAPPY when she woke up, I thought she was going to cry

So all these crazy things we do to see our kids smile, that hopefully their memories a little magical – are totally the shit when we manage to pull it off

Next up….Santa Claus

Imma gonna need more wine for that one

And a stunt double

I made it!

After not bothering to go to bed after the Sunday night gig in Cairns

‘Cause really, if it’s 2am – and I’m leaving for the airport at 4am – any kind of nap I took would be more like a coma

Meaning I would sleep through the alarm clock, the taxi driver banging at my door – and most probably my flight

In my delirious state, I made it to the airport, checked in

And kept walking around in circles knowing that if I sat, I would be out cold

Which I was – as soon as my bum hit the seat on the plane

I woke up several hours later, when we touched down in Sydney

My eyes were almost glued shut with caca-poo-poo (our family’s dumb-arse name for the crap that miraculously accumulates in your eye bits while your sleeping)

I also had a lovely trail of dried dribble down the right side of my face. I was trying to indiscreetly wipe it off when the old dude next to me informed me that, “…well young lady, aren’t YOU quite the sleep talker”

The fuck? And no, I didn’t ask him what I was talking about. There’s some things you just don’t need to know

Had enough time at Sydney airport to grab some mags, snacks & an iPhone charger. My 3rd one for the trip. What? Like you’ve never lost 2 iPhone chargers in 3 weeks

Boarded the Sydney flight, next to smelly lady

I’m not even joking when I tell you that a busted arsehole would have smelt better

Putrid to the point of gagging. So fucking gross

But in a sign that maybe one of the Qantas crew might be my friend on Facebook – a boy so fab I would have given him a tonguey if he wasn’t as gay as my cousin’s husband who totally wears dresses and goes cruising but thinks we all don’t know about it

He came up to stale vagina lady and asked if she’d like a row to herself. I’m like, of course she does! Go…go….FUCKING GO! I tried to be as encouraging as possible, without actually pushing her out of her seat. As that would have required ‘touching’ her. Nothankyouverymuch

And go she did. Not only did that leave an empty seat next to me (that I had to use half a bottle of hand sanitizer and the last of my Narciso Rodriguez perfume on, to make it non vomitty) Stale vagina lady was now at the other end of the plane (where coincidentally a baby started, at that moment, crying it’s box off. And didn’t stop for hours. I think the little bugger was eventually overcome but the fumes and passed out)

Then we sat on that plane for nearly TWO HOURS. Which is complete bullshit. And not just because in that time, my laptop, iPad & iPhone went flat (because I didn’t have time to use my new charger yet, duh) AND i ran out of snacks. OK, so that’s PROBABLY why is was bullshit

We eventually took off – and I was out light a light almost immediately. Only to be woken up for dinner. Fuck. It was hard to be mad at gay Qantas boy though. ‘Cause in my effort to be super-efficient-world- traveler – I had preordered a special meal, knowing that they brought those out earlier than the other meals. It was part of my master plan to eat, use the toilet before any other passengers filled it with their after-meal stink bombs, and be sleeping like a bay-bay before the other suckers even got their meals

My plan had a slight flaw, as most of my plans do. Instead of ticking ‘vegetarian’ meal (which are pretty much the same as real people food, minus the steak, but INCLUDING the desert) I had ticked diabetic. This meant that gay Qantas boy was WORRIED about me, and made it his mission that I, IN NO FUCKING WAY, sleep through a meal – lest I seizure on his shift

It meant not much sleep – and chocolate all over my bum, cause I was trying to hide kitkat wrappers from him. I didn’t want him to think my ‘diabetes’ was self inflicted, you know?

Anyhoo – arrived in LA – 3 hours late. Missed my connection to Chicago. Lined up forever at immigration. Waited forever for my bags. Got in the wrong line to recheck my bags. And was pretty much a big ball of EVERY ONE LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, by the time I got on my next flight

By the time I arrived at my house,  some 35+ hors after leaving Cairns, I was out of it. Dizzy, tired, and barely upright

Then I saw my babies, my Diamond, and my dog

There were flowers waiting for me. Perfume (’cause Diamond had obviously read my post about stale vagina lady and was worried there might have been some shit-smell-transference) And these…

(which I probably ordered for myself online last week, but whatevs….they were STILL waiting for me)

There were cuddles, bedtime stories (that Magoo read TO ME! She could only read a few words when I left *sob*)

So, no matter what the journey’s like

When your destination is home….it’s ALWAYS worth it.

(Except maybe for the jet lag part, which has you up at 1:15am writing stupid-long-blogs, ’cause it’s the quietest thing you can do at stupid o’clock)

We already celebrated Father’s Day in the U.S.

And I even wrote a super sappy lovey dovey post for Diamond

So it’s a bit of a bonus to be in Oz for the Australia Father’s Day

With Diamond, my brother, my Dad

AND my Pop

We’re most excited

To mark the occasion we’re throwing a big rellie bash

That’s also a mermaid party

The mermaids are more to do with the fact that Dad likes to dress up we’re also celebrating Macaroni & Magoo’s birthdays

And they got to pick the theme

Happy Father’s Day to all the Aussie & Kiwi Daddies

I’m lucky enough to call the best Dad’s I know, my family

My husband, brother, Dad & Pop

Can’t wait to see  all the manly men in my life

Dressed up as trannies with a tail sexy sea sirens!

Last night we got a babysitter in for the girls

And headed out to a great restaurant

Then to the casino

This morning I am walking like a gimp

The REASON I am in pain this morning?

Hobbling along with a limp?

These awesome looking but fucking deadly heels

They were probably also the reason that a 60 year old dude who smelt like beer farts propped himself up next to me at the blackjack table and enquired in his oh so subtle way, “how much for two hours darlin’?”

It amazes me that people still have trouble distinguishing between someone DRESSED like a hooker and someone who IS a hooker

Which one am I again?

The old dumb-fuck needed glasses for sure

Anyhoo

Don’t tell Diamond about the follow-me-fuck-me’s being the reason for the gammy walk

He thinks I’m walking funny ’cause….well..yeah…you know….

Let’s not burst his bubble