Staggering past the weekend.

WHUUURRRRR.... WHA?
I spent most the the weekend feeling below average, sub-par and aspiring to the status of sub-human. There's no real reason for it that I can see, other than a mild sniffle that keeps threatening to escalate to a miracle mix of pneumonic plague and the Ebola virus at the drop of a hat, and yet I still feel dreadful.

MY WEEKEND FUNNY
Nathan, when he's not being loud, obtuse and aggravating, can come up with absolute gems of misapplied and misplaced words. This weekend delivered an absolute gem, one that had me giggling for hours afterwards.

• The set-up: Graeme is currently working on a diorama for a school project, and he's decided to do that project on Arctic habitats and the various animals that can be found there, and so for the last couple of days he's been talking about polar bears, seals, snowy owls, lemmings and so on. Nathan, being Nathan, had to ask a few questions of his own...
• The pay-off: Ahhh yes, Nathan and his questions. This one was a doozy. "Mum, do snowy owls eat lemmingtons?" Insert a brief pause as your brain derails, then try desperately not to laugh in his face. (Putting that sort of pressure on even a mildly full bladder should be a criminal offence).
• The follow-up: My brain is determined to sabotage any chance I have of putting on a sober and dignified demeanour in front of the rest of my family. I know, I know, it's an exercise in futility but I feel that I have to try occasionally. Random bouts in giggling and insane cackles, as I have discovered, is not the way to look sober or dignified (or even mentally sound) - Quite the opposite in fact. In any case, there I am in the kitchen some time later loading up the dishwasher when the vision of lemmingtons, all jam-filled and covered in shredded coconut, hurling themselves off a cliff-top intrudes into my mind. Instant, uncontrollable laughter follows, along with a pitying look from Jennie and a long-suffering sigh, "I don't even want to hear about it."
  

AUSTRALIA POST - WE (SELECTIVELY) DELIVER
It seems that, somehow or other, our neighbour (and fellow victim of Australia Post) is yet to have any mail delivered to his home address, despite the fact that our house has been blessed with a number of mail deliveries every week for almost a month now. So, in light of what happened back in February it's time to give the power back to the people. With that in mind, take a moment or two to do the following between the hours of 1:45pm and 2:00pm (Australian Eastern Standard Time) each business day:

1. Phone (03) 8342 6902, (of +613 8342 6902 from outside Australia).
2. Ask "Why can't Peter get his mail?"
3. Hang up.

Remember to phone during that 15 minute window (a few minutes early is fine) as the schlebs in the office are trying to skive off for the day, and seeing as we have to be at work at that time, so do they.