O, The Horror

Have you seen this thing on the internet called ‘First World Problems’? This is my favourite:

Mostly because every morning, I find myself standing under my red-hot power shower and thinking ‘I’ll count to five and then I’ll turn it off. He’s not crying yet, is he? Ok, maybe another five’. Doesn’t really compare to, you know, cholera.

Yesterday I caught myself whinging about something that surpassed even a first world problem in triviality. Something that only a lady of a certain station could whinge about. And so without further ado, I present to you: Stay-At-Home-Mum Problems.

(Not as catchy as the original.)

Once I started thinking of them, they just kept coming.

Or how about:

Or:

Or even:

PS – I couldn’t find who owns this picture. If it’s yours, let me know so I can credit it.

Any more?

The lesson is, clearly, that I need to stop whinging. But on the other hand, I have caught sick in my brassiere this week not once, but twice.

I feel this is pretty major, as problems go.