Gill Sims Quotes

In the end, I suppose that's what a marriage comes down to: finding the one special person you want to annoy and be annoyed by for the rest of your life.

His mother informed us that she had assumed his wife would be buying his advent calendars for him, now he was married, which came as something of a surprise to me, as I did not remember anything in our wedding vows about ‘To Be Your Bloody Mother From This Day Forth …’ I bought him a calendar the next year as a joke, but he didn’t seem to realise the joke part, going so far as to tell me that for future reference, he actually preferred a Thornton’s calendar to a Dairy Milk one, but he appreciated the thought. And so I continue to buy my forty-year-old husband an advent calendar every year, because apparently I am his mum now, and he is a spoilt child.

Rapunzel would have saved herself a whole lot of grief if she’d tied one end of her plait to the bed and abseiled out of that window down her own sodding hair, then given herself an adorable pixie cut at the bottom, punched the witch in the tits, told her parents to get to fuck for selling her for a CABBAGE, and gone off and kicked some arse in the world.

I knew I should have put a kirby grip in, like Lucy Worsley, and then he wouldn’t have any excuse to do things like that. I wished I was as sensible as Lucy Worsley – she would never get herself into a position like this. Or if she did, she would deal with it in a brisk and no-nonsense, jolly hockey sticks manner, like the games captain telling the Upper Fourth off for having a crush on her. I bet Lucy Worsley was a games captain at school. Or, actually, she was probably head girl.

now I am pursuing my career at my children’s expense, including letting them drop their lovely middle-class extra-curricular activities when they declare themselves bored with them, and even worse not signing them up for more, so now they will never be well-rounded people

I do seem to have some vague memory of showing someone a lot of photos of my dog, but I have feeling that was Boring Soozie, in revenge for having to sit through an endless slideshow of her frankly rather ugly children.

I will have to send a text, with a screenshot of a donation to a homeless charity, explaining I have gone for a green and worthy option. Although in my heart I know this is a better thing to do anyway, I also know it will in no way abate the mounting rage at the pile of cards with their accompanying smug letters about how Jocasta has just passed her Grade 7 flute while climbing Kilimanjaro to raise money for orphaned kittens, and how she is really looking forward to starting school next year, and Sebastian is doing so awfully well at Some Obscure Sport, and is now the youngest person to play for the British Obscure Sport Team, and aren’t we just simply maaaarvellous?

Every single bloody interview with a successful woman who also has kids asks her a patronising question about how she ‘juggles’ being a ‘working mum’ with her career. No one asks successful men that. Ever!

I’m wondering how many more fucking ‘phases’ I have to endure before my children become civilised and functioning members of society.

Every mother knows that the more syllables there are when your child says 'Mum', the more outlandish the request to follow will be.

realised that I am a Tree Nazi and the children do it All wrong, so mostly I shout at them for the first ten minutes until they lose interest and bugger off and I can rearrange the baubles they have clearly put in stupid places (i.e., move their handcrafted glitter- and snot-caked monstrosities to the back of the tree, out of sight, so my tasteful glass John Lewis and White Company decorations are front and centre).

The First Day Photo, as every parent knows, involves finding the corner of your house that looks least like a shithole and hustling your offspring into it, while shouting, ‘SMILE, darlings, JUST FUCKING SMILE.

the men in the playground usually take the form of either Super Busy And Important Daddies In Suits who burst in and out, either throwing the children in at the gate or dragging them out at high speed while talking loudly on their mobile telephones so we are all aware that they are Super Busy And Super Important and only here because The Nanny was so inconsiderate as to get appendicitis;

A pessimist will only ever either be proved right or pleasantly surprised – there is no disappointment lurking for pessimists the way there is for optimists.