More comments than I got when I announced the birth of my child.
To answer the questions on everyone's lips:
No acrobatics required, the window ledge is in fact a low one. At a toddler's arse height actually, and he just happened to be standing there. It could indeed have been way worse than it was, as many of you pointed out. There were no feet, hands, mouths or carpets involved and the consistency was, while not perfect, far firmer than it might have been. Thanks for all that you guys.
The contents of the (water filled) bath were an array of high absorbency women's sanitary products. Oh yes, the cost. And the way, once finished doing that absorbing job they do so well, they filled the rubbish bin with their ballooned soggy weight.
Yes, I took a photo, in the midst of it all. I agree Suse, I feel like a real bona fide blogger at last.
And no, I do not yet have a functional phone line. Well, I can make calls and I can now receive calls, but my phones can't actually ring yet. Because of course, it is always a great idea to divide this process of switching on a phone line into as many constituent parts as possible so you can allow the maximum possible delays in getting the fucker up and running.
So when the very kind and sympathetic lady said to me last night after yet another interminable stretch of time on the phone re-explaining my situation that it would be a good idea for me to call back tomorrow morning and find out the current status of my account I was compelled to ask her
exactly what it would take for nasty big phone provider X to get up of it's big fat backside and take responsibility for giving ME a call to let me know whether they had yet fixed up the fucking mess they had made that had so far sucked up at least an hour of every evening stretching as far back as living memory to the point where my children barely had time to converse with me between when I got home from work and when it was time for them to go to bed (and surely she could hear that toddler in the background screaming out mummymummymummy and me saying shhhh darling mummy's still on the phone, yes, again, and bleeding from the ears already and no, daddy isn't here he's in Thailand?) and by the way while those fabulously skilled technicians you employ are out trying to work out how to do their job properly would they please fix the automated menu system on the incoming faults line so I don't lose 15 minutes of each phone call being directed to the wrong department of their massive empire, clearly so large it stretches all the way to India, where I have been told each and every time I have called that I am with the wrong department and I should call the number I did in fact already dial and have to argue for another 5 minutes before they agree to transfer my call all the way back to Sydney?
and she said, yep, OK, how about I get someone to call you tomorrow? Say between 8 and 12? And we'll use your mobile because, you know, we can't be sure the phone will work.
and would you be surprised to hear it is 11.30 and no one has called? (edit: Oh lookie, the time expired and no one called!)
I will now sit down and document this whole sorry tale in infinite detail (you think I've been boring so far, I guarantee I will beat these guys into submission with detail) and send it off to their complaints department AND the Ombudsman's Office (thanks for the tip Suzy) and make sure that I do my bit to swell their poor performance stats.
Or perhaps I should just package up one of Wil's little turds and post it off since they seem to get such a reaction.
Sheesh I am tired.