So, Andrea Leadsom is going home to mama, at least partly due to her opening a whole can of rancid piss last week by saying that being a mother means she's more qualified to run the country. (Farage also said that she had 'guts' before showing he had none and ducking out of the whole post-Brexit shambles in which his team revealed that their plan was (a) Win and (b) Erm...)
Anyway, I am also a mother. I have blogged before about my mothering skills here. While my mothering skills do not necessarily make me good at motherhood, I believe they mean I have exactly what it takes to be a great leader. Here are my credentials.
1.I know not to feed Dairy Lea to a child who is even remotely unwell, as when this is regurgitated it smells like Satan's cock rot. I imagine the same rule that applies to children also applies to foreign dignitaries and therefore I would be great at state banquets.
2.I know that standing on Lego at 2am is excruciatingly painful and very annoying and therefore would use this against enemies instead of expensive weaponry (although I wouldn't use Star Wars Lego as I'm pretty sure that'll end up collectable and I don't want terrorists making a quick buck on eBay).
3.I know that negotiating is always best done through a door over the noise of DNCE (which, for those of you who don't know, is a popular beat combo fronted by a manchild who used to wear a promise ring and now says the word 'fuck' in music videos because he thinks this is what grown-ups do).
4.I know what the pound is worth. Ten minute's peace while they go to the shop.
5.I know what's going on with transport. It's old, the passenger window won't go down and the back seat is covered in drinks bottles and homework that's 'lost'.
6.I know which spirits you can easily hide in your water bottle while spectating at Sports Day and how to subtly mark the bottle so that you don't accidentally give it to one of your children. Again.
7.I know you have to slap at least one person before you get a good group photo. Mugabe, I'm looking at you.
8.I know that if the press is biased, I really won't care, I'll just be glad that someone's paying me attention who isn't hungry and doesn't need clean socks.
9.I know how to pretend you're glad to be somewhere when you're really, really not. Attending opening ceremonies twenty minutes after your plane lands is nothing compared to sitting through an hour long assembly about weather, next to the racist mum who keeps complaining to you that all of the brown children have been given the most speaking.
10.I know how to avoid the question. How old was I when I lost my virginity? Everybody has their own personal 'right' time and age really isn't the most important factor, but overall it's better to wait until you're at least thirty because things are different now.
So, there you have it. I am totally qualified to be Prime Minister on these grounds. My children and I look forward to spending weekends at Chequers. Provided it has Pringles and WiFi.