I’ll help you love, you know I will
It’s what I always do.
We both know I’ll be writing it,
With little work from you.
Keep on reading!
First day back at school. Was wet and windy so took pity on the teenagers and gave them a lift. Picked up eldest’s friend on the way.
Stopped at junction and waited. Eventually an oncoming driver slowed to let me join the flow of traffic. As I pulled out I turned to eldest in the passenger seat, gesticulated towards the guy who’d let me out, and said, “Smile and wave boys, smile and wave.”
Eldest was absolutely MORTIFIED. Keep on reading!
My teenagers seem to love loitering around our bedroom and lolling about on the bed. On the whole this is fine (and actually quite nice), but at times a little privacy is required – like in the mornings when I’m rushing around trying to get dressed. So, I’ve discovered a great way to ‘nicely’ get rid of them.
I simply declare, “This is my room and I want to get dressed. I’m happy for you to stay but be warned, the boobs will be making an appearance.”
On hearing these immortal words their facial expressions change to horror, they simultaneously wail “Noooooo!” their hands shoot up to their eyes, and they both frantically lunge for the door.
Amusing conversation this morning:
Teenager (heading towards the front door): What’s for tonight’s meal?
Me (waving goodbye from the kitchen): Vegetable curry.
Teenager (swivelling round and hurtling back down the hall with alarming speed): Vegetable curry? VEGETABLE curry? Why are we having vegetable curry?
Me (wiping the table, head down hiding the smile): Because it’s not good to eat meat every day. It’s good to have just vegetables occasionally.
Teenager (starting to panic): So is it curry with JUST vegetables? Literally JUST vegetables? No meat AT ALL?
Me (smiling openly): Correct.
Teenager (using dramatic hand gestures and pacing around the kitchen): But we have vegetables WITH meals EVERY day. We don’t need a meal of JUST vegetables!
Me (walking into the utility room): Our bodies need a rest from digesting meat every day.
Teenager (following, voice rising): Who told you that?? Is that some kind of warped joke? Please put some meat in it. I can’t believe it, that’ll be horrible! It can’t just have vegetables in it. I’m not eating it. You can’t make me eat it. You can eat it. It’ll be disgusting mind. I’ll make something else for my meal…blah blah blah
Me (emptying the washer, glancing over my shoulder): I’m sorry, are you still talking? Darling, you need to go or you’ll be late for school.
Teenager (wild-eyed and stomping back to the front door): I can’t believe it! Why would you do this to me? It’s just not right. It’s…(leaving the house, with a little help from me)
Me (closing the door): Bye sweetheart. Have a nice day.
Headed upstairs, musing about tonight’s meal – Maybe I should present it as a picture, like I used to when they were little: The Mona Lisa Madras, The Poppy Field Pasanda or maybe The Sunflowers Sag Aloo? *laughed to self and tutted* Unfortunately my skills in the field of art are as advanced as my tolerance in the field of pandering to fussy teenagers. So my efforts would end up more like a Masala Mush, a Balti Blob or – if they’re really lucky – a Dhansak Dollop.
Came back downstairs, made a cup of coffee, switched on computer and typed into Google – ‘Vegetable meals with no meat in them WHATSOEVER…’
Drove home from work yesterday trying to decide whether or not to uncork the wine when I got in.
Opened outside porch door to find inner porch door wide open – am constantly telling sons to close this.
Stood on the post – lost count of how many times have asked sons to pick this up when they come in.
Tripped over cantankerous cat demanding to be fed – both boys horizontal on sofas with I-Pads glued to their hands, impressively ignoring cat’s plaintive cries of hunger (massive headphones clamped over their ears probably helped).
Shouted at them to pick up blazers and bags dumped in the lounge, and take them to their bedrooms.
Demanded to know if they’d got any homework.
Cleared kitchen table still littered with their breakfast debris.
Cleaned up cat sick – yes she doesn’t limit this just to the cat box on car journeys.
Listened to three messages on the answer machine offering me compensation money for that car accident I’d been in, the chance to reclaim mis-sold PPI and a whole set of new double glazed windows.
Easy decision really – wine was opened!