Lathering up - rant warning!

Due to some (not entirely unforeseen) family circumstances we've been staying at The Ultimate Other Halfs parents house this week. Luckily we don't live too far from them so situations in lines of "oh shoot, those bodysuits don't really fit Sir Sprout any more" can be rectified with swift drive there and back.

Are kids SUPPOSED to grow that fast? I mean - I could swear those things were fine on him last week. Either that or we were just too sleepy to take any notice that we had to apply extra muscle to squeeze Sir Sprout into his underwear.

I have also been blessed with Extra Mad With Topping Of Despair And Panic week at work.

All that together translates to ourselves rushing around until the young one has been knocked out for night (if we're lucky, he's teething on top of it all) and then collapsing on inlaws fancy (blue!) leather couch.

That's when the going gets really tough.

You see, we have entered The Soap Zone. Every single soap is watched in that house. Eastenders, Corrie, Home and Away, Fair City - bring it on!

For some mysterious reason Emmerdale seems to be blatantly ignored. I should bring up that issue in the future. When I'm out of the house again.

I am not a soap person. They annoy me with endless string of stupidity, see-through story lines and repetitions. The fake "realness" they strain to achieve. The token characters every single soap features - a wise old strong-minded woman, a vicious womanizing bastard, a long suffering mother on the verge of breakdown, an adorable kid, a rebellious teenager, a loudmouth vulgar woman (comic relief), a nasty Bitch From Hell etc. Because of that I don't even notice when one soap ends and another one starts. Same issues, same stereotypes. Same "keep it simple" very regulated directing style. Loooooong shots of talking heads. Brief inserts shot outside the set (why push the costs up...) usually when something really drastic is supposed to happen.

Above all I just don't have a stamina. You'd really want to be determined to watch the same story with slight variations for years and years (A was married to B and cheated her with C while running shoddy business with D. Two years later A is married to E, still cheating her with C, D blackmails him and there is probably also F-the-long-lost-love-child bouncin around while B-the-abandoned-and-deceived-ex-wife is plotting to ruin/kill A. Yaaawwwnnn.). Sometimes I admire people who have endured decades of mind-numbing nonsense like that, still insist on turning on the TV on Holy Hours Of Lathering and actually seem to have their sanity more or less intact.

Plus the limitation all that soap business puts on your life. Oh, I really can't meet you at 8, Corrie's on or Why have a conversation at dinner table when we can all watch Home and Away instead?

Oh well. Shouldn't get too carried away here.

After all I have my dirty little secrets/weaknesses as well. Wanna know what?

I watch CSI. All of them. In all their glossy morbid sci-fiesque glory.

So there. Now you know.