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seethingheathenMy steppy's mum is coming for a visit on Sunday, and I've been assigned to cook. God fucking damnit. Everything I do will be well scrutinised by this woman.
Quick Step-Gran Profile. Feel free to turn this into some sort of Garbage Pail Kid card.
Name: Katherine Simpson Witt.
Age: Two years younger than my own mum, or 53.
Hair: Ginger. Always worn in a bun with two long strands strategically framing her face.
Eyes: Green and hidden behind the biggest, roundest specs you've ever seen.
Weight: 25 stone, I swear it. You know those SmartCars? Yeah, that's her.
Hobbies: Drinking diet shakes and whinging that her hips hurt.
Residence: Northern Ireland.
Reasons we hate her: My mum hates her because she's a bitch. My steppy hates her because she forced him to learn the Catechism as a child against the wishes of his (late) father, who was Protestant. No resentment there, no sir. I don't hate her so much as find her annoying, but she has got this fantastic dirty limerick book that I've been keen to read since I was 11 and we lived with her for a month. I've only managed to get glimpses of it over the last 14 years, and now she swears it's gone missing. Right.
I've seen old photos of her, and she used to be beautiful. Now, she just a whingey fat woman who tries to engage me in religious debates. All she wears are jogging trousers and the like, and once when I was walking up the stairs behind her, I saw the top of her knickers, and they were practically shredded. That image will stay with me for life, I know it.
Anyway.
Quick Step-Gran Profile. Feel free to turn this into some sort of Garbage Pail Kid card.
Name: Katherine Simpson Witt.
Age: Two years younger than my own mum, or 53.
Hair: Ginger. Always worn in a bun with two long strands strategically framing her face.
Eyes: Green and hidden behind the biggest, roundest specs you've ever seen.
Weight: 25 stone, I swear it. You know those SmartCars? Yeah, that's her.
Hobbies: Drinking diet shakes and whinging that her hips hurt.
Residence: Northern Ireland.
Reasons we hate her: My mum hates her because she's a bitch. My steppy hates her because she forced him to learn the Catechism as a child against the wishes of his (late) father, who was Protestant. No resentment there, no sir. I don't hate her so much as find her annoying, but she has got this fantastic dirty limerick book that I've been keen to read since I was 11 and we lived with her for a month. I've only managed to get glimpses of it over the last 14 years, and now she swears it's gone missing. Right.
I've seen old photos of her, and she used to be beautiful. Now, she just a whingey fat woman who tries to engage me in religious debates. All she wears are jogging trousers and the like, and once when I was walking up the stairs behind her, I saw the top of her knickers, and they were practically shredded. That image will stay with me for life, I know it.
Anyway.
