Judgey McJudgeface

I used to be quite judgey but I’m not so judgey now. Well, OK, that’s not strictly true. I’m still ridiculously judgemental, but lately I’ve been feeling a little guilty about some of my past snobberies, and as such, here is a virtual apology to all those who have been mentally wronged by me.

The first one goes out to Lovely Daddy’s mum. It’s to do with washing. When LD and I first dated, I went to his family home a few times, and in my early-twenties single gal snobbery, I couldn’t for the life of me understand why his mum chose to dump all of the family’s washing in the corner of the dining room and just leave it lying there. It got churned up, and some of it was still a bit damp, and really no-one ever cleared it, they just took one item, ironed it for themselves and left the rest. It seemed a poor system to me.

I NOW UNDERSTAND HER DESPERATION / PURE APATHY. She had four kids, a husband, and she was working full time. Where was she meant to find an hour or three hundred to sort the stuff, air it, iron it, fold it and then put it away? And why did I consider it to be her job? I genuinely don’t think it crossed my mind that LD’s own dad should do it, or his sisters…..I really did judge her and for that I am sorry.


This is less than one week’s worth of washing on the bed. We made it, but I have to lie in it. Once I find it, that is. So, Lovely Daddy’s mum, my first big sorry goes out to you. Karma has come and bitten me on my freshly laundered ass, as I while away my hours sorting a million tons of washing. Does LD take his turn in the sorting? No, not very often. These types of tasks still fall to me, though I am training up the kids.

My second Judgey McJudge goes out to all those folks in the world who wear hiking shoes, tight running trousers or ski sunglasses when they are not actually planning on doing a specific sport. My smug little brain used to scoff at those who wore sports-specific gear as day-to-day clothing. Now, not only do I wear a cagoule, with a detachable fleece inner lining, but I have also been known to don my luminous green ski jacket on chillier days. I do not look cool. I am not going swish swishing down the pistes, I am merely hanging in the playground, but now I understand, geeks of the world, why many of you choose the clothes you do. So….sorryyyy about the snidey looks at your mac.

And my third apology goes out to…..anyone who was ever subject to my inner daggers for forgetting my children’s birthdays. Oh me, oh my. When my first born came along,  I was still super at birthdays. I probably still had a diary or a calendar where they were all neatly written down. I bought cards, presents, remembered nights out. Now I can barely remember the name of your child, let alone what age it is. Don’t expect to witness any of my expert wrapping skills any time soon. Soz, all, Facebook is good as you’re gonna get these days.

So now you’ve all borne witness to my mean inner voice, what can I say? Only that I’ll try harder to think first, judge later.





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