Guilty pleasures. Oh, Edward.

So, mentally I am a teenage girl. I have been reading the Twilight books. Go ahead and think less of me, but I really like them. I have read them each in a day or two, and I just can’t put them down.

My favourite is the third book, Eclipse. It is about a girl who has to choose between two guys in opposing worlds. My husband is totally like Jacob (the werewolf). But who can resist Edward--vampires are so very appealing.

The writing is terrible. It is full of clichés. Stephanie Meyer clearly has a way with words and a decent vocabulary and is a skilled storyteller, so it “breaks my heart” to read through so much cheese for every genuine moment.

You will see almost every twist of the plot coming. Meyer doesn’t make the most interesting choices, which is a let-down time and again. And she seriously needs to edit and polish and not make the first draft her final one.

Then again, she is a bestselling novelist. What do I know.

150 pages to go. Bracing myself for the disappointing finale.

Hiding behind the curtains.

When the sun goes down in NZ, nearly everyone closes the curtains. I think it's for privacy.

My husband says, no, it is for warmth, because almost no one has double-glazed windows.

But everyone who pops in at Wellington Road seems surprised by our neighbour’s house. Because we can look right into her open-plan lounge and kitchen.

My husband says people are shocked because they are not up with modern design. And it is nice that our neighbour can look out of her house, rather than being surrounded by four walls.

But he is very sure. She doesn’t have double-glazed windows.

So I think our neighbour is an exhibitionist. And I like it.

This house looks a million times better since she moved in.

What the child is saying.

Wipe my bottom. Obviously, this is something you only want to hear from someone you gave birth to. I warned the child that when he goes to school, he will need to wipe his own bottom. And he looked at me like, I will totally hold it until I get home.

Food! Food! Food! The child tweets like a little bird when he needs something to eat.

Have a nice day, Dad. The child says this as my husband heads out the door to work. It is just as sweet as I love you.

That’s not my name. My name is Jet. Um, okay. And let me guess, you’re a Transformer? I think my husband let the child watch the Transformers to get back at me. Because robots in disguise? I don’t get it.

Mum, it’s your favourite song. I love it. The child knows my favourite song. Even though it’s been overplayed, and I don’t like it any more. Boom boom pow.

Do you want some cuddles? You would have to have a heart of stone to say no to this. Although sometimes the child’s timing is a little off, like when I have my hands full of pizza dough, or I’m sitting on the toilet. Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.