Some Mother’s do ave em

It was one of those ‘time stood still moments.’ Perhaps fifty adults and maybe 30 children, all assembled on the day of my daughter’s wedding. Everything had been prepared in advance and I’d practiced my brief speech, in my formal role as ‘mother of the bride.’ Because I am an anal retentive type, I had already taken account of every possible eventuality, everything except that one.

After a few words to the adults, it was time to include the children, as speeches are especially boring for youngsters. So I called them, all the children. Invited them to join their parents for a few seconds, and of course they all did so, little obedient lambs, except one, the black sheep of the family. I had him in my sites, clearly. I could see him as he froze in response to my call, caught in the act, deer in the headlights, an immobile statue of exaggeration. No one else on the planet could hold that pose, a caricature of startled innocence. It wasn’t disobedience; but bewilderment, pure and complicated. “Parent!” I repeated as he blinked wide-eyed. His arm bent stiffly at the elbow to point to his own chest, in the universal gesture of ‘are you talking to me?’

“Yes! Where are your parents?” I yelled as my arms beckoned, huge flappy waves as everyone waited in the blistering 90 degree heat. I stood next to his father on the single step, waiting. I watched him percolate as he searched around to retrieve the lost word – what was that word again? ‘Parent’?

I saw when it stuck him, a little sharp dart of recall, a small convulsion of conviction that sparked him into movement as he skittered over to my side, a cheesy grin of recognition because progenitor elastic had snapped him back.

Next time I’ll prepare more carefully, save myself a lot of bother – one little rustle of the packet from 50 miles away will set him running – the power of Goldfish crackers still reigns supreme.

Meanwhile…….tis the season for…..? Something or other. We’re pretty much buried in Thanksgiving for now, shortly to be followed by a whole slew of birthdays, “Nonna’s” arrival before we bump into the Holiday season. That said, despite all the busyness it maybe worthwhile to pause amid the fray and spare a thought for those “abroad” Maybe you’re in need of some “festive cards” especially if your own children eschew such materials as glitter, glue and paper. I’ll make no bones about it, I plan to pass them off as our own – or maybe not. Even if you’re fully supplied with cards, it might be that you can spare a little something as a donation, a freebie, with no pay-off? I hear that there are some people like that, who give freely without any desire for a quid quo pro, although I we wouldn’t know anything about that around here. If you think that might be something that tweaks your funny bone, then nip along and say “hi de ho” to “Cordelia,” and her chums.


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Hole in one

I watch him hit Bukugan balls across the kitchen floor with a plastic light saber with quite an alarming degree of accuracy.
“How many balls are there in bill birds?”
“I have no idea. Is this one of your new jokes luvvy?”
“No. I’m askin. How many balls are there in bill birds?”
“I don’t think I know what a bill bird is?”
“Bill birds is dah English game which is being called Pool properly.”
“Ah! You mean billiards!”
“O.k.”
“Super. Glad we sorted that one out then.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“How many balls is there?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know, I’m not really very sporty.”
“Sporty?”
“Yes, Billiards is an Olympic sport…..isn’t it? I was never any good at Trivial Pursuits.”
“S’not trivial, its importint!”
“!”
“Itsa game not a sport.”
“Oh, well you’re the American so you would probably know best.”
“So how many?”
“Like I said, I don’t know……I can look it up if you like?”
“No, jus look in your head.”
“Pardon?”
“Can’t you see it?”
“Where?”
“In yur head. I can see it in my head.”
“Oh, like in my mind’s eye………no I still can’t see it. Can you?”
“Of course.”
“How many then?”
“I can be seeing 15 in dah triangle thingy.”
“Can you really?”
“Yes. Wot do you see?”
“A headache.”


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Do We not Bleed?

The great thing about growing up is that life becomes so much more calm, relatively speaking. The bad thing about growing up is that the cues become more subtle, or at least they are for complacent, half witted parents, such as myself. Both the boys have gradually acquired a wide variety of coping mechanisms which they’re able to access more frequently these days. Since their outward behaviour is more conformist, I’m apt to forget that it’s still all there, just a scratch beneath the surface. Luckily for me, a little reminder here and there helps keep me grounded.

The reminder arrives in the morning, early, never my best time of the day, during the heavily sequenced morning routine. Amid copious prompts, we wend our way towards readiness for the school bus.

The boys are draped over their cereal bowls at the table, munching, wordless. Everyone has demands and needs whether they’re able to voice them or not and I have a tendency to focus on the squeaky wheel. Whilst the squeaky wheel is entirely capable of making her own breakfast, this morning, she’s more squeaky than usual:-

“Where’s the bacon you said you’d save for me?”
“In the fridge dear.”
“Can I have it for breakfast?”
“I thought you wanted to save it for a sandwich?”
“Please, please, please can I have it now?”
I hear a mutter of dissent from other quarters, “oh come on! You’re needs, you’re needs, you’re needs.” Part of the conversation and yet not, at the same time.
“Sure. Help yourself.”
“I can’t find it.”
“I labeled it for you. Have another look. It has a yellow post-it attached.”
“Where?”
“Right there. In the door.”
“There on the stair! Where on the stair? Right there! A little mouse with clogs on….
“It’s not here. I’m gonna starve to death.”
Dem bones, dem bones, dem …..dry bones.”
“Here…………there you go.”
“Yum.”
“It will be tastier if you zap it for a couple of seconds.”
“How long?”
“Start with 10 seconds…..nope, leave it in the bag or it will explode all over the microwave.”
“T.N.T. it’s dynamite!”
“Ooo look at it crackle, yum!”
“Hurry up dear, look at the clock!” I urge as he hear my son muttering, “time is money, time is money, time is money,” to his nearly empty cereal bowl.

Miss Squeaky moves to the table with relish as one brother leaves.

One down, two to go.

The remainder, the smallest brother, turns his back on us and the table with a breathy gasp in one smooth movement, not easy when you’re hunkered down on a carver chair. His head sinks low down into his shoulders until he has no neck, elbows closed in tight like a bird settling it’s wings, compact and silent. I step nearer because he’s either stopped breathing entirely or holding his breath. I slip round to his front side to see his fluttering eye lids as he appears to be about to pass out, woozy with little electric shudders. “Breathe love! Are you alright?”
“Agh!” is all he can manage as he springs over the arm of the chair, hits the floor and rolls into a corner where he pants in recovery mode. Rarely, if ever, has there been a more finely executed example of escapism as he lies on the floorboards gasping like a recently landed fish.
“Are you feeling better lovie?”
“Better…..but I’ll be betterer when I am …….awayer.”
“Away where?”
“Awayer from dah dead meat stink.”
“!”


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Growing up

Slurping Life

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My girls……11 is catching up with 28!

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Happy Holidays [19]

We are still in England.

Meanwhile I have a few scribbles from yesteryear, very tame, to tide you over.

Double click for larger view:-

Alternatively, these are a few posts from a while back re-posted.

1. Who’s afraid of the “Big Bad Wolf”
2. It’s a “dog’s Life.”
3. “Street Talk.”
4. “International Translations.”

5. “The Sleeping Life.”
6. “The difference between sarcasm and Irony.”
7. “Eat your Words.”
8. “Spoonfeeding.”
9. “Old Fogies.”
10. “Her Royal Hightness.”
11. “A right Dog’s Breakfast.”
12. “How to insult someone in a foreign language.”
13.
“Notable Quote.”

14. “Literal Minded.”
Cheers dears


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Happy Holidays [18]

We are still in England.

Meanwhile I have a few scribbles from yesteryear, very tame, to tide you over.

Double click for larger view:-

Alternatively, these are a few posts from a while back re-posted.

1. Who’s afraid of the “Big Bad Wolf”
2. It’s a “dog’s Life.”
3. “Street Talk.”
4. “International Translations.”

5. “The Sleeping Life.”
6. “The difference between sarcasm and Irony.”
7. “Eat your Words.”
8. “Spoonfeeding.”
9. “Old Fogies.”
10. “Her Royal Hightness.”
11. “A right Dog’s Breakfast.”
12. “How to insult someone in a foreign language.”
13.
“Notable Quote.”

14. “Literal Minded.”
Cheers dears


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Happy Holidays [17]

Hosted by “Tracy” at “Mother May I,” but the photo-picture below will whizz you right there with one click.

Just call me snap happy.

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Photobucket

We are still in England.

Meanwhile I have a few scribbles from yesteryear, very tame, to tide you over.

Double click for larger view:-

Alternatively, these are a few posts from a while back re-posted.

1. Who’s afraid of the “Big Bad Wolf”
2. It’s a “dog’s Life.”
3. “Street Talk.”
4. “International Translations.”

5. “The Sleeping Life.”
6. “The difference between sarcasm and Irony.”
7. “Eat your Words.”
8. “Spoonfeeding.”
9. “Old Fogies.”
10. “Her Royal Hightness.”
11. “A right Dog’s Breakfast.”
12. “How to insult someone in a foreign language.”
13.
“Notable Quote.”

14. “Literal Minded.”
Cheers dears


Bookmark and Share

Happy Holidays [16]

We are still in England.

Meanwhile I have a few scribbles from yesteryear, very tame, to tide you over.

Double click for larger view:-

Alternatively, these are a few posts from a while back re-posted.

1. Who’s afraid of the “Big Bad Wolf”
2. It’s a “dog’s Life.”
3. “Street Talk.”
4. “International Translations.”

5. “The Sleeping Life.”
6. “The difference between sarcasm and Irony.”
7. “Eat your Words.”
8. “Spoonfeeding.”
9. “Old Fogies.”
10. “Her Royal Hightness.”
11. “A right Dog’s Breakfast.”
12. “How to insult someone in a foreign language.”
13.
“Notable Quote.”

14. “Literal Minded.”
Cheers dears


Bookmark and Share

Happy Holidays [15]

We are still in England.

Meanwhile I have a few scribbles from yesteryear, very tame, to tide you over.

Double click for larger view:-

Alternatively, these are a few posts from a while back re-posted.

1. Who’s afraid of the “Big Bad Wolf”
2. It’s a “dog’s Life.”
3. “Street Talk.”
4. “International Translations.”

5. “The Sleeping Life.”
6. “The difference between sarcasm and Irony.”
7. “Eat your Words.”
8. “Spoonfeeding.”
9. “Old Fogies.”
10. “Her Royal Hightness.”
11. “A right Dog’s Breakfast.”
12. “How to insult someone in a foreign language.”
13.
“Notable Quote.”

14. “Literal Minded.”
Cheers dears


Bookmark and Share

Happy Holidays [14]

We are still in England.

Meanwhile I have a few scribbles from yesteryear, very tame, to tide you over.

Double click for larger view:-

Alternatively, these are a few posts from a while back re-posted.

1. Who’s afraid of the “Big Bad Wolf”
2. It’s a “dog’s Life.”
3. “Street Talk.”
4. “International Translations.”

5. “The Sleeping Life.”
6. “The difference between sarcasm and Irony.”
7. “Eat your Words.”
8. “Spoonfeeding.”
9. “Old Fogies.”
10. “Her Royal Hightness.”
11. “A right Dog’s Breakfast.”
12. “How to insult someone in a foreign language.”
13.
“Notable Quote.”

14. “Literal Minded.”
Cheers dears

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