Sunday, May 22, 2005

Cursed!

Eh, trying to be ladylike just doesn't cut it for me. I have to ask my mother if the "special" fairy godmother attended my baptism and decided to leave a surprise gift.

The Tupperware party was lovely, and Emma's mother and her friends were lovely, although after too much champagne even lovely Mums start having conversations that freak their children out :) I'll leave the rest to everyone's imagination...

And there was stacks of food - oh Em, how well you know me... :)

In the space of an hour I had managed to:
- spill my glass of water on the carpet,
- spill someone else's glass of white (thank God) wine on the carpet,
- hand round a tray of pastries and watch in horrified slow motion as one fell onto said carpet in an explosion of tiny crispy flakes.

All that was lacking was a large tub of custard and jelly for me to take a pratfall into, or for the small terrier that was running around to somehow become hilariously entangled in my underwear...

Other incidents have included:

- Childhood visits to restaurants ending in a blur of various beverages spilling across tables, Coke, Fanta, 7-Up, red cordial...

- Being invited to tea at the headmaster's house upon first arriving at boarding school, and watching my orange cordial spread like a liquid mushroom cloud over Mrs. Bickerdike's immaculate white tablecloth...

- Cups of Chinese tea at dim sum leaving brown tide marks around islands of steamed goods...

- Watching videos at someone's rented house and spilling red wine over a two metre radius onto their white carpet. It was like the aftermath of Psycho, but less tasteful...

...and the list of spillages goes on. The accidental stabbing, slicing and grating of digits and appendages I'll save for another blog. Also the strange driving events where I become distracted by the second set of lights and not the ones directly ahead, or I start singing along to the radio and miss my freeway exit. Twice. Sonofa...

3 comments:

emB said...

Apologies for the nightmares that the conversations of my Mother's friends may have incited upon those unfortunate enough to hear them. I mean really, who discusses that stuff out loud? Never mind discussing it, who actually does it? Let's just say that mature women discussing cleaning and the use of particular ahem toys should never, ever happen. As my 17 year old brother said "Thank God that you didn't say anything Mum". Amen.

an9ie said...

Wonder why this still says 0 comments?

an9ie said...

Ah, it's working now...