I need a secretary.

hmmmm, that would be fabulous.

Someone to wander around behind me, peeling me grapes and making me coffee. And organising my life.

I have been so busy lately. Things are slipping. The other day I forgot to make my bed. Man that pissed me off, cause I always make my bed. That freaking Flylady has got a lot to answer for in that respect.

And those people that resemble me still keep asking for food and clean clothes and for me to drive them places, unpaid mind you, and shit.

Sheesh. Really cutting into my sitting on my arse staring at the wall time.

There will be a dress code for my secretary. Um, I mean personal assistant.
Oh and a tight fitting tshirt and some sort of pants thing when the kids are home. And a fat suit and balaclava when MPS is home.

Don’t want him bitchin’ about feeling inadequate and stuff.

The bed will be made.

Oh how I love those white sheets…..

He will need to be at my beck and call.

* when the school rings and tells me Boo has wet himself again, and I forgot to send clean clothes with him, again, and would I mind popping down there to rectify the situation……

My PA would have done the washing so I don’t have to scream around like a banshee looking for matching socks. And will be waiting patiently for my return with a steaming hot body latte.

* when the girls inform me that whatever-stupid-school-function is on tomorrow and they desperately need me to make whatever…..

My PA will stay up late into the night baking or sewing or whatever the fuck it is that I have to do, so I can get my beauty sleep.

* when Boo has pissed all over the lounge again, or covered the walls with shit and toothpaste….

My PA will clean it up for me. While I watch. And he is naked…..

* when the phone rings for the eleventy billionth time today….

My PA will take a message. Or tell them to fuck off.

* when my lovelies give me shiny purdy buttons for my blog…….

My PA will collate them, write a personal thankyou note on a naked picture of himself and help me fling the bling to those most deserving.

* when I get home from work………

My PA would have done the housework, paid the bills, organised dinner, picked up the children, organised homework and have coffee and chocolate waiting for me. And rub my feet. And tell me I am wonderful. And gorgeous.

Um. I don’t think I need a PA. I need a wife.

Most most of all, after reading back this, I think I know what I need.

And it involves teen daughters going to bed earlier. And chocolate body paint.

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