Skin deep

It’s been said that the skin of a baby mouse is so thin that one can see the milk flowing into it while it’s suckling. Think how handy it would be if humans had transparent skin:

• Hmmmm, well I can see it was a bit more than two beers after work, honey”
• “Ouch, looks like appendicitis!”
• “Well, you just march back in there and tell your boss that we all know he’s full of shit!”

What super power do you wish you had?

Beep, bleep

There's nothing like the bleeding eardrums that develop after an hour in traffic with 2 kids fighting over 1 Slinky and the complaining, over the increasingly deafening drive-time radio, about how scratchy the seat is. All parents enduring this should be forgiven for leaning out the door, grabbing the scruffy window washer at the lights by the shirt front and screaming “Stuff the wash and wipe buddy, I’ll give you fifty bucks for what’s left of your home brew!”.

What drives you to drink?

Family Jewels

Suggesting to your man that enough is enough and he should now get a vasectomy, is never going to be well received. He’ll wince, screw up his nose and as he squirms in his seat he’ll feel for, and cup, his crutch like he’s holding a baby chicken in a petting zoo. He’ll whine about all his mates who’s loving wives would never suggest clipping their man-wings, or graphically recount some horror story he read about in Men’s Health. If he does consent, because you’re so controlling, be prepared for up to 2 weeks of finding bags of frozen peas down the back of your sofa, daily updates on the size and tenderness of his beloved coconuts and constant reminding about how much it hurts. What... like childbirth?

How does this conversation end at your place?

Abracadabra!

A mother’s handbag is like a magician's top hat. With a wave of her magic hands she can reach in and pull out any number of useful and necessary items like tissues, Bandaids, hairclips, Lego, bug repellent, loose change, clean socks, boxed sultanas, drink bottles, a sunglass case filled with coloured pegs, spare undies, sunscreen, coloured pencils, AA batteries, a pop-up book, moist wipes, plastic cutlery or a voucher for 'a free eye brow wax with your next Brazilian' from Hair-we-go Wax Emporium. But, there comes a day in every well prepared mothers life when what she needs just isn’t there and, after groping fruitlessly in the cavernous depths of her magic bag, she is forced to dry down her dripping wet and shivering child with a spare sanitary napkin.

When last did your magic bag let you down?

Vampire-a-go-go

Anyone who’s paying to have their own blood drawn from their arm and squirted back into their face with needles, in a desperate attempt to look and feel youthful, should reassess their skin care regime. What happened to the age old three-step cleansing routine, 6-8 glasses of water a day and an occasional dab of Retin A? Should one be fearful of a black market emerging, where we actually pay the criminals to stick us with their blood filled syringes, instead of running from them? If the vampire facial takes off then a ferret milk smoothie with a side of dingle berries has got to be the next big thing!

What's the strangest thing you've done in the name of beauty?

Feeling hot!

Humans are passionate and emotional. It’s what sets us apart from the animals. However, that hot ball of energy and desire raging in our bellies manifests itself in different ways as a woman ages:

• In toddlerhood, tantrums at the check-out are sure to whip you into a hot mess.
• In your teens, its finding your brother using your bra for target practice with the cute guy from next door.
• In your 20’s and 30’s, it’s thoughts of last night and sexting your lover between meetings.
• In your 40’s, it’s a night out with the girls and then coming home to find your hubby has cleaned the kitchen and emptied the bins.
• In your 50’s and 60’s, it’s hot flashes... and oh so many more hot flashes.
• In your 80’s, it’s Roast-Dinner-Wednesday from Meals On Wheels and the promise of back to back re-runs of 'Deal or no Deal'...              if you make it through the night!

How do you keep your fire alight?

What a drag...

Gravity is a stalker. It knows your every step, it brushes up against you on the bus, it’s always in the background watching you from afar. It lulls you into a false sense of security by allowing you to believe that it’s harmless, even helpful. It effects you bit by bit, ever so slowly gripping and pulling and tugging at your knees, your boobs and your cheekbones until you find yourself readjusting yourself through squinted eyes in the bathroom mirror, trying to recreate what it all used to look like. By the time you notice the ads for botox it’s all too late. Take heed fair maidens… if you just found your first coarse hair growing out of your neck, it’s the least of your worries!

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

Terror…Not!

If the world’s terrorists got together in one room for some sloppy Mexican food, a few beers and were encouraged to fart at will, they could then vent their anger on the XBOX and call it a night safe in the knowledge that, although they only unleashed mass destruction in cyber space, they indeed had dabbled in biological warfare!

What other games could we play to try to ease global conflict?