Australia’s best mullet
Do you or someone you know sport a mullet that Billy Ray Cyrus would be proud of? We’re on the hunt for Australia’s most impressive mullet. Send in a photo of your mullet-crowned noggin for your chance to win $1,000.
How: send your photo to email@example.com placing ‘best mullet’ in the subject line, letting us know who is in the photo and including a backstory if there is one.
Include: your name, address, email, phone number and the name of your mortgage broker.
Dates: opens on May 15 and closes on July 15.
Winner: will be decided on July 16 and notified by telephone after this time.
Terms and conditions: email firstname.lastname@example.org to request terms and conditions.
By regaling us with their stories of kindness, our readers have reminded us of the goodness the human spirit is capable of. Congratulations to Heather for her winning story. With the first half of 2020 throwing us more than a fair share of challenges, remember to be kind to each other – you never know who might need it.
Let’s start by saying I’m a psychologist. And a well-seasoned one at that. When I had my children, there were many expectations I would handle it without a worry, perhaps even be a shiny role model for others to follow. Then there came the reality slap. And it hurt. One day burns brightly in my mind and if you’re a parent, the situation may be all too familiar. Mothers, small children and shopping centres should not interact. But I did not heed the warnings. In I blew, with baby hastily placed in a pram and a hyperactive toddler holding my hand. The target… purchase a few things. Within moments, baby was screeching – high pitched and piercing. The toddler had knocked fruit and bread off any shelf within reach, and when that became boring had wriggled out of my hand and proceeded to engage me in a game of supermarket tag. With tears in my eyes and a heart bursting with exhaustion and frustration from mindless sprinting up and down aisles, we eventually made it to the checkouts, only to see they were at least three people deep. I told myself to breathe deeply, superglue grip my toddler’s hand and ignore onlookers’ stares. And then it happened. My toddler in all of his Tassie Devil-frenzied tantrum got hold of the hem of my skirt and pulled my skirt down to my ankles. Mother-knickers on full display. White thighs in all their glory. A mother frozen in time. And then came the miracle. From an unknown cloud, an angel wearing a Coles uniform appeared, grabbed my skirt, lifted it back up around my waist and gently ushered me to a previously closed counter. Here she scanned my items with lightning speed, uttered words of comfort and support and her eyes held all the kindness of a person who you knew genuinely cared and understood. I went on my way after that, dignity only slightly restored, but forever in appreciation of small acts of kindness.