The Dangers of Giving Advice

The Dangers of Giving Advice.

Oh, if only I’d read this about twenty years ago…

Why is it, by the way, that having kids brings out both the advice that lurks within, and the advice from without? All of a sudden you’re giving and getting advice like it’s the only kind of conversation.



Why is it called a “cold” when it makes everything feel hot? Eyes, inside of nose, throat, and I think someone was having a go at my left tonsil with a potato peeler while I slept. The brain is fuzzy and the energy is low.

With a day off work, and no facebook account, I have spent my day muzzily pondering things. Like:

Is it actually possible to have sex accidentally (barring rape)?

What is the reverse of a she-male? (DH suggested he-fem. What do you think?) Was my friendly bus driver actually trying to look like a man, so would it count as such?

Will having dark grey tiles, a red wood-burner and an off-white wall panel behind it add too many additional colours to a room that is predominantly green and pale yellow and rimu? Should we go with tiles to match the carpet?

Is a lively, informal church by its very nature inimical and unfriendly to shy people? Is it possible to make friends by means of a system?

Three of those questions are topics in themselves, to be covered perhaps when I’m not so muzzy. The tile question can only be answered by samples.