All posts filed under: Greek God(zilla)

The Dinner Party

There are many good reasons to entertain at home – not needing a babysitter being an obvious one – followed closely by not having to leave the house when it is frigging freezing outside and being in such close proximity to your bed after a couple of glasses of wine. With this in mind, we invited a few friends over for a dinner party last weekend. I received a new white tablecloth for Christmas (YES I AM THAT OLD) and I was desperate for an excuse to use it (YES I AM THAT BORING). I was also excited to get this particular group together, as although I have known them all individually for many years, we have only recently started to hang out together as an ensemble. So, call it an experiment. An experiment with food and wine. What could possibly go wrong? Well, lots if we had stuck to our original idea of cooking kleftiko (slow-roasted Greek lamb in the oven). However, a routine message to double check dietary requirements ended with a list …

The New Routine

I was so caught up in how big a deal returning to work was for me, that I underestimated how big a deal it was for the rest of my family. For 2-days a week, I will not be around for after school pick-up. Mornings will be more hurried, with an hour less to play / shower / find the book bag / dress / accessorise / drink tea / straighten my fringe etc. And, afternoons will be more condensed with homework / bath / meltdown all to squeeze into the hour before bedtime. I have always been available to my son and now for 2-days a week, I will not be. I am messing with ‘The Routine’. As soon as you become a parent, you become aware of the importance of the routine. Everyone who has ever had a child before you will tell you how much you need to be in one. As boring and predictable as it can sometimes feel, the routine does make life a bit easier. Gradually, and through much trial and error, I found …

Bleeding a Radiator – the Greek God(zilla) way

Many of you will already be familiar with the Greek God(zilla)’s unique approach to fixing things around the house. His solution to repair almost every crack, tear or hole is to apply a strip of parcel tape over it.  View some examples here. Recently, he has been trying to improve upon his DIY skills as evidenced when he successfully took on the painting of two small bedrooms. But, a handyman he is not and there are some things that really should be left in the hands of professionals, or my Dad. Like, bleeding a broken radiator. It is so obvious now what is coming next so WHY OH WHY OH WHY OH WHY OH WHY did I not see it coming at the time?! It was a typical Friday night in many ways.  The Greek God(zilla) came home from work early, so we took our son to the village for a haircut.  A visit that was well overdue, but I had put off because a little trim sometimes has a tendency to turn into a big chop when I am not looking (possibly because I …

Behind every Greek man is a woman rolling her eyes

Living with the Greek God(zilla) brings its fair share of eye rolling moments.  Most of them are delivered in good humour and often encouraged by the recipient himself. If we have an audience, and have both been on the wine, he will practically hand the one-liners to me. However, there are occasions when words completely fail me, and this is when I find a gentle rolling of the eyes says it all. Allow me to share a few recent treasures with you. Just this week, he boomed from his bed about an unknown transaction to a clothing company on our credit card statement.  At first, I wondered if I’d been busted for a jumper dress I purchased online in the sale and snuck stealthily into the wardrobe; but a quick google search of the company name revealed a sports clothing company and a transaction date that coincided with the AFC Wimbledon v Liverpool match the Greek God(zilla) went to a couple of days ago… The match he returned home from with a speeding ticket.  He thinks.  The camera either flashed him or the car in front. …

Like Father, like son

My husband and son have many things in common. They would both happily spend the entire day in their pyjamas if they could. Every rainy Saturday afternoon is as a DVD box set opportunity. They laugh at their own jokes. Neither one likes to be offered ‘suggestions’ while constructing Lego. They can both smell a square of chocolate from a mile away. They believe that whoever shouts loudest gets his way. Dancing is their moment to showcase made-up karate chops and spin kicks. But, there is one other thing they have in common that drives me nuts.  I could be chopping veg in the kitchen, tidying toys away in the playroom, or actually be in the shower, when I hear my name called, followed by a question that usually starts with ‘Can you get me…’, ‘Where is the…’, or ‘What’s for…’ If I do not respond in a timely manner, my name and the accompanying question will simply be repeated at a higher volume, usually from the comfort of the sofa or bed where they are no doubt reclining at the time. I have abandoned risottos, skipped crucial …