You know you’re a single mother on Boxing Day when

You let your kids watch cute cats doing stupid stuff on the internet all day
You open a beer at 9.30am
You can’t see the living room floor and the presents were opened nearly 2 days ago
You think left over, dried out potato salad is all kids need to eat all day
The sun is shining but the couch and TV have reserved a place for your fat bum
The brandy custard in the fridge has your name and ‘do not touch or I will send you to boarding school’ written on the label
Your drunk redneck neighbours call your name and you think climbing over their fence for a drink at 10pm is a wise decision
Your youngest child complains about a stomach ache and you pour her a shandy
You steal your children’s Christmas presents so you can regift to the neighbours’ kids because you forgot to buy them anything
Your children are still eating Christmas candy canes at 8.30pm
You let your kids play with sparklers unsupervised in the street so you can watch endless hours of cats doing mindless funny stuff on the net


I’ve got an app for that

Because I am a sad lonely old stylish stuck at home single mother I spend far too many nights binge posting on social media until the wee hours. Fuelled by cheap leftover Christmas sherry, one night I posted, ‘used my boobs to get out of a speeding fine’ on Facebook as a joke with a friend who lives in another city. It was my most popular post. Ever. And it was complete bullshit. I was home in my pyjamas sitting on the couch at the time. The only car I’ve driven in recent memory was my mate’s 1995 Daihatsu which couldn’t earn me a speeding fine unless I poured Red Bull into the fuel tank. The comments posted were priceless:

How much did you have to use them and could you go into a lot of detail please?

I did that too. But on CityRail…

Good girl, me too.

Luv it, excellent choice

Very impressed – that would not work for me

Can I borrow them sometime?

My type of gal! Damn I wish I could use my man boobs for anything.

Well done. Excellent work

Well I’m not surprised- they are particularly nice tits

Lucky cop. I’m proud of you

My brother said ‘I can’t believe someone in my family has acted in this way.’ Never worked for me. Not once.

(.) (.) life is good! Go Lou

I’m giving that a go… I tried the ‘trouser” option once…

Well done. Make ’em useful I say!

Noice work. So proud x

Picture please

Good for you! I do that all the time

Is this your most liked post ever? One of my favourite posts for a long time, you go girl, use it or lose it

Now come on they were paired with your charm and intelligent banter I’m sure they don’t get all the glory. Go Cougar Woman!

As I was feeling the lurve from other Farcebook addicts, I realised us Gen X-ers are very easy to please on the interwebs, a fart joke, a petition to sign, a flash of boobs or a cute cat to watch keeps us happy and bantering for hours. Us old bags don’t need too much digital interference or constant tech updates, we need connection.

Maybe all the upgrades and downloads are a way for young geeks to justify their hours at work? Apparently the young whipper snappers are leaving Facebook in droves, turning the once hot social media site into old fart book, which may lead to a name change. Come to Old Fart Book where dreary status updates about your new vacuum cleaner are not only welcome but encouraged.

Sorry Facebook, it’s been fun, but I do think your popularity has peaked. And I think I’ve found the latest, greatest bit of tech wizardry. The app that’s really hot right now is ‘Tap And Fart’, I use it at work all the time, especially the squeezed fart.


Unravelling whilst travelling

Earlier this year I went to the Middle East to stilt walk at a fair in front of the Bahraini royal family. As one does in one’s day job. So I had to work while I was there but for me it was a single mother escape with endless joy from the minute I sat down on the plane. I love planes. Someone gives you food regularly, you watch endless TV and films, read pointless magazine articles, someone refills your drink and cleans up your spills and you don’t have to make anyone dinner. What is not to love? When we arrived in Bahrain we had drivers to help with our bags and take us to and from the hotel. I can handle hotels, I really can. Having a slave clean the bathroom and make your bed every day was divine. This single mother was loving it. One day after work I had a massage, then sat in the jacuzzi for two hours. Because I could. Someone else was washing my sheets. Free from housework and childcare, I could shop, eat too much food, look at tourist sites and sleep in. When I returned to my darling friends who had looked after my children while I was away, I realised that even though I loved my Middle East adventure, from the camels to the swarthy men, it didn’t really matter where I went, because every slave mother needs to misbehave at least once a year.