Smoothie central and fridge control

Welcome (whether you like it or not) to smoothie central

BLISS and DLL have gone smoothie bonkers.

DLL, at least partly, because she's still unable to eat solid food, and they're a great way of her getting some decent nutrition.

BLISS because she's bonkers in the first place. The smoothies are just another symptom, just another (in the long line of manifestations) manifestation.

Anyway, there's stuff going on here I'm not entirely happy about:

1. They were the ding-it and scoff-it kids, and I was proper, old fashioned, do it from scratch cook-bloke. I had some control of the fridge, for example. That's all changed now. Every bowl, even my tomato bowl, has been commandeered. The tomato bowl is full of avocados. The salad trays are full of smoothie ingredients. There's an industrial catering tray of strawberries in there, too. There's pourable yoghurt, non-pourable yoghurt, semi-pourable yoghurt, super-pourable yoghurt (okay, I made the last two up, but you get the picture). They've taken over.

2. When I make a smoothie, mine have radish and spinach and tomatoes and celery in them, with salt and pepper and a dash of Tabasco. Then I strain it. They take the mick. Apparently, not liking drinks with bits in is childish and raving gay. I like to drink my drinks (i.e. no bits, thanks). I don't mind them thick and a bit gloopy, but I don't want any bits, thanks. I don't like my food puréed too much either. Food = bits good. Drink = bits bad. Where's the problem.

3. BLISS' diet is ridiculously healthy. She's already vegetarian, and now she's existing all day on super-food smoothies and fruit. Where's the fun in that?Where's the chips? Her midday snack today was a job lot of liquidised fruit with a little veg, and more fruit. Mine was a six pack of marmite flavour crisps and three cups of super-strong coffee. Does she want to live forever? Do I have to start adding butter to the pourable yoghurt (I didn't make that one up, by the way)?

Home made haircuts

“Oh my god. What have you done?”

Not what I wanted to hear. We'd borrowed Rambo's clippers, and BLISS had started giving me bit of a trim. All was going well. Then the phone rang.

“I'd better get that” she said. She went off to the phone. It was probably a wired handset. We were a lot younger then.

It was a long phonecall.

She neglected to bring me anything to read. I was sat in the chair with the towels on and a lapfull of hair, with nothing to do.

Well, almost nothing.

I had the clippers. How hard can it be? I got busy.

Phonecall over, and...”oh my god, what've you done?”

“Er, I got bored.”

“I don't know if I can rescue this.”

I had a sort of short Mohawk haircut for a bit until it grew out.

How was I to know which way round to hold the clippers?