Pinch and a punch

March already? And midnight already?? So much for whipping up the next feature article pitch and synopsis as part of our homework (actually due yesterday lunchtime). Can't believe I'm falling behind schedule so badly already? Do have a few more ideas though, having spent the past hour reading the contributions featured on the BadMother's club website. They're all very witty and amusing in their own lighthearted way, so not sure whether to conform with type, or try to present an alternative viewpoint. At least I wont have to get bogged down with research – can just write from my own perspective.

Think I'll go for the how-to-apologise-to-your-teenage-daughter line, when you've borrowed their clothes/cds/makeup etc.. Maybe title it Mind the Gap. Had a doozy of an argument with Rosie on Monday night because I'd been listening to her Fat Freddy's Drop CD a few days previous – on Saturday when I'd had people come back after the pub – which has since somehow mysteriously vanished. No longer in the CD player, and nowhere to be found. Naturally, I apologised profusely, turned the place upside down (to no avail) and subsequently promised to replace it. It wasn't even a proper copy, just one she'd burnt off a friend. Immediately got on the case to enlist Eddies help in downloading the exact same album from Soulseek, doing my best to block out the banshee screams of a less than happy disgruntled teen.

Unfortunately, it wasn't really working properly – kept cutting out midway through the first track – so decided to leave it til the following day as it was already nearly midnight. A well-pissed off Rosie was not happy. Had already had a rant about me borrowing her clothes without permission (although I had to point out that she was similarly guilty as charged, and at least I wash and return said garments neatly folded to her drawers, unlike her).

And she'd given me grief when I tried to offer help/advice concerning her english course work. She was suffering from blank page syndrome – had sat for hours unable to make a start at writing the essay on 'Why I Hate Christmas' that she needed to. Suggested that she just free write on a random word associated with Christmas e.g. holly, purely to loosen up her creative writing mind, but was accused of nagging. Didn't even get any thanks for hunting out one of my ancient children's books (one of the very few that I still have in my possession) called Letters To Santa Claus, as thought it might inspire. But no, she wasn't having that. And we'd argued, or rather exchanged words when she stated in a miserable, despondent voice 'I'm a crap surfer'. Spent ages trying to reassure her, say the right thing, bolster her confidence but she resolutely refused to listen. And got so teasy with me, again. In the end I had to ask if she had PMT or something? The answer turning out to be an emphatic 'Yes'. Not that I thought that excused her atrocious behaviour I hasten to add. And to think, I was only trying to be nice.

Ha. Will soon have my revenge. Plenty of material there to play with in terms of a prospective article for BadMothers... we shall see.