The blog prompt over at BritMums this week is ‘Guilty Pleasures’ and they suggest either a post recommending your Top 5 blogs, or a post describing what you’d do if you got a full day to yourself.
In a slightly loose interpretation of the theme, I’m going to list the Top 5 guilty pleasures that would feature if I got a day to myself. Because, y’know, they’re lovely folk over at BritMums and I hope they won’t mind me bending the rules slightly…
My fleecy dress
I love my fleecy dress. DorkyDad hates it. DorkySon hates it. Pretty much everybody except me hates it. It’s Bench branded, so I thought I might be able to find a Google image to share with you, but apparently it didn’t get pass their ugly-filter. My Mum bought the fleecy dress in a charity shop, about ten years ago. She wore it for a week or two before deciding it ‘wasn’t really her’ and passing it on to me. I’d just started university. I was eighteen, and a size eight, so it probably looked quite cute in a warm hippy kind of way. Now, ten years and one pregnancy later, it makes me look like a blue, slightly lumpy, fleece-wrapped sausage. But I love it. I can wear it over pyjamas when I’m making coffee in the morning. I can throw it over my jeans when I’m taking DorkySon to nursery (that whole school run fashion envy thing that other parent bloggers stress about hasn’t reached me yet…). On winter days it stops me getting that chilly strip around my waist when my t-shirt comes untucked from my trousers. It has survived numerous clothing culls. It will survive many more. I love my fleecy dress.
I’m lucky enough to be married to a brilliant cook. DorkyDad does nearly all the cooking in our house. He’s the kind of person who, rather than walking up the road for a fish supper, will buy fresh fish himself on the way home from work, mix up his own spices and flour for batter, heat the oil to exactly the right temperature, and produce something beautifully light, crunchy and tasty. If he is ever out for the evening, I am not even tempted to try and recreate his loveliness in the kitchen. Instead I indulge in one of my guiltiest pleasures: a chip sandwich. There are a few rules with a chip sandwich that must be adhered to. It has to be made with the cheapest, crappiest white bread. They have to be proper fat chips; not silly, skinny little fries. There has to be plenty of ketchup spread on one side of the sandwich, plenty of mayonnaise on the other, and a liberal sprinkling of salt and pepper. Ideally you should eat two of them, punctuated by a cup of strong tea, while watching a reality TV show.
I used to be quite green. In fact I used to be very green. I worked for a coalition that campaigned on environmental issues. I stood as a parliamentary candidate for the Scottish Green Party. I even went to the Arctic myself to see the effects of climate change on the ice cap. And, during that period of my life, I dried my clothes on radiators or hanging on a clotheshorse. They always ended up completely stiff. My jeans would stand up by themselves. My towels would leave pink welts across my skin when I dried myself after a shower because they were so rough. And I had to spend hours ironing out the strange creases in my shirts that resulted from them being hung up. But then we moved house… and the house had a tumble dryer. I had warm, fluffy towels in my life. I could wash my favourite sheets and have them back on the bed the same day, rather than having them dripping around the house for a week. I didn’t have to do any more ironing. There is an inverse relationship between my use of the tumble dryer and my participation in green politics; I am pretty sure that’s no coincidence.
It’s a bit of a cheat to include this, because I don’t actually feel very guilty about it. For some reason books are the only things I can spend money on without a hint of remorse. DorkySon has cottoned onto this pretty quickly, and knows I will rarely refuse him a new book. Three-for-two offers, and Amazon’s one click ordering have made it even easier than it used to be, but to be honest there’s not much I like better than going into a proper, old, independent bookseller and paying full price for a hardback that has never been opened. I suppose I justify it as being in some way educational. That doesn’t really account for the copies of the Loose Women book, Jeffrey Archer’s Prison trilogy and David Beckham picture autobiography that are currently sitting on my shelves… but hey, I have a degree in English Literature. I’ve actually read Ulysses. Sometimes you need a break from all that literary merit nonsense.
As a student I used to drink some awful stuff; three quid bottles of wine that would have been better used as drain cleaner; 50p shots of vodka and tequila from the student union bar; supermarket own brand cider; whatever shockingly coloured alcopop was on offer in the clubs that weekend. I don’t know how my liver survived. Then I met and married a man who really knew his wine… so now I still feel guilty about my drinking, but only because I like the really, really good stuff. I am a sucker for a nice, oaky Californian Chardonnay. That said, I am not a wine snob. We went to a tasting once and I almost got thrown out for giggling (‘Oooh,’ I said, holding my glass up to my nose and trying to think of something appropriately pretentious to say. ‘It smells like rolling in hay on an autumn day.’ The serious-faced men and women around the table nodded along with me in agreement…). I feel like I am betraying my Bacardi breezer past slightly, but nice wine really is, erm, nice.
So I guess (in an attempt to stay on theme), in the unlikely event that I had a full day to myself I’d sit on the sofa in my fleecy dress… drinking wine, reading trashy books and pausing for the occasional chip sandwich. The soundtrack to the day would be the constant clanking of my tumble dryer. Don’t ever let it be said that I don’t know how to have a good time.
That sounds like my sort of day! I too have recently discovered the joy of tumble drier (much to Papasaurus’s disgust)
Chip sarnies rock!
I imagine there must be a quite ridiculous amount of laundry being done in your house, so I don’t think there’s any need to feel guilty about your tumble dryer use!
Simply perfect! Loving your interpretation of the prompts. And wholeheartedly agree with you on everything but Expensive Wine as I really don’t drink wine unless it comes with bubbles.
Love it Dorky! You just made my morning…I really think we need a photo of that fleecy dress though…
🙂 Karin @ BritMums
Oooh yes, bubbles – well surely that’s the most expensive kind!? Thanks for your comment… I’ll see what I can do re the dress 😉 x
Ever tried a spaghetti bolognese sandwich? A carbo-loaders delight!
Noooo! That sounds amazing! Thanks for the tip 🙂
Sounds like a good day to me! Really want a chip sandwich now.
Isn’t it funny how pre-parenting your perfect day would probably have been something really exciting, and now all we want to do is just slob around for a bit?! Thanks for commenting 🙂 x
Finally I have the chance to catch up on blogs! This made me smile – especially the books. I struggle to walk into a second hand bookshop and not buy anything. Old hardbacks with crackly pages and that slightly musty old-book smell get me for some reason. And like you, I can’t quite bring myself to think of books as a guilty pleasure – just a pleasure!
Ooh, you’d love our house – lots of crinkly, musty old books! I love buying second hand ones that have got an inscription inside. Amazing what people will write to each other! I bought T a Richard Scarry book in a charity shop the other day and there was a three page letter from a woman to her boyfriend in it, talking about their relationship. Seemed like a very odd place to have stashed that!
No sauce in chip butties round here. Not that I eat such things, of course, but if I did, there’d be no sauce. Just fat yummy chips, salt and vinegar, and melting butter. Oh, I’m practically whimpering now…
Book shopping isn’t really shopping at all. It doesn’t count as spending money, any more than the electricity bill or the hairdresser.
Ohhhh, now you’re making me hungry. Vinegar and melting butter, eh? (Although tricky to eat while you’re reading one of those books… don’t want to drip everywhere!) x
Oh yes, nothing like a chip butty (what’s with this sandwich terminology?) . I’ve noticed (as with tumbler driers and green politics) an inverse relationship between high brow reading and intensive study of literature. Nothing like an English degree to put you off. As my Engineering friends approaching their middle year salivate over Tolstoy, my English Lit buddies are happily reading Jennifer Crusie surreptitiously on their kindle. Perfect outlet for high stress lives!
See I thought it was a butty if it was in a roll, but a sarnie if it was between two bits of bread, no? My favourite sandwich term is an egg banjo 🙂 Thanks for commenting 🙂 x
Yep its only a buttie if its in a roll! Though of course thats the best way. Buttered roll, chips melt it a bit, some ketchup, heaven 🙂
Glad to hear you’re avoiding over-indulgence in merit-worthy literature, I’ve always felt it to be bad for the health! Much more fun to read something light, entertaining and preferably a little bit silly.
What about adding a bit of grated cheese to your buttie… or is that taking it too far?!
Well… just this once! 🙂 ’tis nice but makes me feel guilty for not being a fat pie!
Your perfect day sounds very much like mine, I really want a chip sandwich now and I agree with the bread – it has to be slathered in butter which melts on the chips too 🙂
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