'Natural Condoms' for oxy-morons

I noticed something the other day that, if it wasn't so tragic, could have made me laugh out loud. What could this be, you wonder?

A vending machine advertising 'Natural Condoms' no less. I fantasise about someone daring to take such a manufacturer to court under the Trade Descriptions Act, but suspect it won't happen, compelling me instead to draw my vast readership's attention to yet another example of the World's oxymoronisms (more to come on other examples later...).

Condoms cannot be described as 'natural' for the following reasons:

• Condoms do not naturally exist, They don't grow on trees, they can't be germinated on a windowsill. They are not natural objects.
• Condoms are not a natural part of human physiology. One is not born with one attached. They are not a 'second skin'. They are not a skin at all. They are not natural.
• They are not a natural part of sex. On the contrary, they ruin sex, they change it, pervert it, disorder it...whatever word is more comfortable for you to use - it all means the same. Condom-sex is not sex as it is intended and created to be. Condoms, therefore, go against nature.
• Condoms are not natural to love-making. They purposely bring a 'barrier' between a man and a woman, thereby preventing their one-flesh union. You cannot be truly united if you have a barrier between you that you've purposely put there.
• Condoms are not a natural way of preventing pregnancy. On the contrary, they are anything but. They are designed to work against nature, not with it. The natural end of sexual union is openness to the conception of life. That's the primary end of sex! That's nature. A natural way of preventing pregnancy is to not have a sexual union. Or to have one when you are in a naturally infertile time. In other words, follow the nature of your body. And keep sex as sex is. According to nature!
• Condoms typically contain spermicides which actively destroy healthy sperm. That's against nature, too.
• Condoms are not a natural way of protecting against sexually transmitted diseases. The only 100% way to do that is to not have sex. You want to really love your spouse? Don't have sex if you have an STD. The act of sex is intended to be an act of married love. If there's a risk that you can infect your wife by the act of sex...can it still therefore be the most loving act you can do together? A more loving act would surely be to abstain and remove the risk entirely. If you want to reduce the risk of getting knocked down by a train, don't stand on the tracks. No matter how fun it might be. Find another way of enjoying yourself!

So...'natural condoms'? I rest my case.

Another Haribo Birthday Party

My 4 year old daughter went to another birthday party last weekend, accompanied by Mummy and her two younger sisters. There has been a spate of toddler birthday parties over the last couple of months as her contemporaries are all turning 4 and moving out of toddlerhood into girl-dom.
Each party has been arranged on an increasing scale, with parents seeming to compete over the effort that has to go into these dos, with bouncy castles and lots of big plastic things everywhere surrounding the bemused and overwhelmed birthday boy/girl.

However, there is a bit of a 'sinister' theme running through each of them, Mummy and I have noticed. It is the unavoidable in-your-face presence of Mr Haribo and his gang. Sweets. Everywhere. In the pass -the-parcel (every layer as well as the prize), on the tables next to the limp white jam sandwiches and crisps with their own exotic E-numbers. Sweets - haribo sweets in particular - those jelly sweet and sour, cola bottle, wondrous get-stuck-in-your-teeth-and-rot'em sweets - take pride of place in almost every party game, and...once the kids have started climbing the walls with hyper-activity and its time to go home....there're more of them in the party bags. horray!

At one such toddler birthday party I counted up to 5 large bulk-buy boxes full of them. Swizzlers, lollipops, twisty things in bright colours, all oozing eat-me chemicals and grumpy fat lardiness.

My three daughters were sent home with their own party packs of rot - even my 8 month old had her own bag of haribos and lollipops. She's 8 months old! For God's sake, she doesn't even have teeth, and unless it tastes of breastmilk, she doesn't want to know!

So what is it with these parties? WHY do parents insist on dishing out so much of this poisonous stuff? What for? It can't be just for the children's sakes. Surely, a child has only been exposed to Haribos and their evil comrades because a GrownUp has introduced him to them? I just don't get it. Either the advertising companies have successfully brainwashed most of the adult world into thinking that children actually need to consume things that rot their teeth, drive them to ADHD, damage their brain with chemicals and lower their immune systems in order to enjoy a birthday party, or parents really are that thick.

My advice - fill those party bags with humzingers (100% fruit and good for you), goodie bars (also not full of rubbish) and something interesting and healthy that won't pollute their tiny precious bodies. It'll have short and long-term benefits, and one day, they may just thank you for it. And they might just eat their dinner too, and not come down with another cold this winter.
Just don't invite Mr Haribo to their birthday party again. He wouldn't be invited to yours, now would he?

All hail the thermometer!

I am officially 'ill'. Yesterday my temperature peaked to 103 degrees F. 103!!! and that's without having just had a very hot cup of tea. That means that I am "not well" and I can take to my bed guilt-free for the next week, regardless of lower readings (which will be ignored, or at least undeclared) over the next few days. The thermometer in my house holds great power. If you are writhing in pain, but have a temperature of 98.6, there's no excuse and no sympathy. Back to work! Anything above 99 though and you can officially put your feet up, wallow in a dressing gown, be served hot beverages and generally receive caring looks and marmite on toast delivered to your pit for several days following.

Such a reading on the must-be-obeyed thermometer also ensures that you get your own bedroom and your own bed (no co-sleeping with three children for you! hurrah!) meaning you are relieved of all nightly parenting duties and can stay in bed all morning to convalesce.

I have, actually, been feeling rather poorly with my doctor-diagnosed tonsilitis. Even the doctor was aghast at my swollen throat, and said "that must be very painful" (I keep telling everyone). A couple of days later, however, I am getting better, thanks to sympathy and Smallville on DVD on laptop in bed. But, I want you to know, I'm still not fully better, and I'm sure that, if I were to take it, the thermometer would confirm the fact that I am feeling a little warmer than is good for me, and thus permit me to wallow in weakness a little longer. Sigh...


Post script.... my wife has just informed me she has a slight sore throat. (!!!)
Quickly trying to think of a place to hide that blasted thermometer.