I'm frazzled having spent the best part of two hours trying to juggle appointments then finding out they've replaced one hour long heart stress test with another which means we can do everything locally. Through the swearing and cursing, I hear Ma.
Mother: When you come out of the aneasthetic, your leg's in a big machine, isn't it?
Me: Where in hell did you pull that from?
Mother: What?
Me: Why would they do that with your leg when you're having a boob removed?
Mother: Well you did!
Me: I've never had a boob off.
Mother: You had your leg in a big machine when you had the knee replaced.
Me: WTF has that got to do with a boob?
Mother: Wasn't it painful?
Me: Bloody painful and why are we talking about bloody knees?
Mother: Aunt Selma's having her knee done and I want to know how much pain she'll be in so I
can enjoy it.
Me: *Pokes eye out with a ball point.*
I'm in the sewing room, looking at a Mount Everest of lace and material on one side and foothills of ironing on the other. The woman has a mania for keeping cardboard boxes in case they're needed. any size or shape, it doesn't matter. Unfortunately it's hereditary because I can't throw away a pretty shaped glass jar even to sending myself insane trying to get the last of the leatherwood honey out of the tall, square shaped bottle it comes in. My sister skipped this gene and throws everything out including, on one occasion, the phone books and the phone.
Me: Why is the vacuum cleaner standing in a box?
Mother: I put it there.
Me: Why?
Mother: It's out of the way.
Me: It's a heavy vac, so you lift it up and put it in an empty box. Why didn't you pick up the box and chuck it out?
Mother: I don't like bending over and the box is handy, the Hoover fits in it nicely.
Me: *bangs head on wall* *repeatedly* *very hard*
11 comments:
Odd, how what other people do seems so very illogical. While the things WE do are totally sensible, of course.
... "and the phone" ? ...
JD, I can understand the logic of nailing the door to the floorboards so it can hold back the tide of materials and Godknowswhat behind it. She just could have told me before I nearly broke my arm trying to move it.
Brownie, I kid you not. We found out when Mum's phone went missing over to her place when the battery died on the stand up phone. I am a clutterer, she is a de-clutterer.
I was thinking about broken armes today.
The way friends write on the plaster cast.
I thought I might have a plaster coffin so friends can write on it.
The stern which fronts the assembled mourners will have a Mastercard symbol on it "This funeral courtesy of ...'
The sides, Port and Starboard will have "Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye ..."
I am hoping mourners will wear costumes: french maids, cowboys, that sort of thing.
All this thought occurred while hurtling along that hellhole the Western Freeway, after being screamed at by my daughter at her new house in Darley.
That's very funny Miss Brownie: your last posting. I'd put a comment on it alright -outrageous enough to resurrect you.
Don't leave me in suspense, what did you do to deserve the screaming?
RH, After reading your latest at LP, she'd need two coffins.
Yes well LP expects those sorts of comments from me - for something to get all indignant about.
And so I have to do it; I don't like seeing middle class people cry.
And Miss Brownie, she'll need two boxes you reckon?
Well golly, I never knew she'd put on that much weight!
Rocked over to leave supportive words re Endora's Op, to find that CaseMix has been added to her condition.
My own Witchlet was merely transferring all her weariness and other frustrations onto me.
It works if one is brave enough.
next time you are overwhelmed of your own making, just scream madly at some innocent within range.
Now I will work my way back up your news ... and RH pet, increase the dosage ... please?
I'm on maximum dosage already.
Any more and I'll be attacking people in the street.
Wake up to yourself Miss Brownie, Ballarat isn't Braybrook. We got different ways in these here western suburbs. That's the big problem with blogging: Class Shock!
Okay?
Behave!
-Robert.
Brownie, next time we're both frustrated, lets find Robert, beat him up and make him cry.
If I ever see you two heifers around here I'll hit the toe straight away. I know lanes to disappear up. And back fences to climb over.
It's amazing what you can do when you're terrified.
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