Being Me

A's fantastic picture of her daughter covered in chocolate ( http://brilliantsulk.blogspot.com/2009/04/artist-in-training.html reminded me of an incident in a cafe when my kids were little. 2 year old son: Can I have some of your chocwut cake? Me: Only if you're careful not to get it everywhere. [This statement rates near the top of the list of Stupid Things Mothers Say.] 2 year old son: I pwomise. Me: Okay, here you are. Here, we will have a short break from the scene. You know those bits in films where two people get into bed and then, although you don't see any action, there is a wild storm outside, or a seascape where waves crash against the rocks which is meant to tell you EVERYTHING. Well, here, imagine not romance but disaster movie, so perhaps the sound of trees crashing to the ground in the wild storm, or a ship creaking and moaning as it breaks up and sinks. Cafe. Five minutes later. Me: Oh, just LOOK at you. You're COVERED in it. How did you do th

Why is it that the following things never happen to me in private? Following the law of averages, they should, at least sometimes, happen where there is no one to see/hear/laugh/phone their friends to share the news. Following the law of Sod, they always happen in public. I never, in private ... 1. Come in at the wrong point when singing along to something at the top of my voice. 2. Stub my toe. 3. Bang the funny bone in my arm. 4. Sneeze wet sneezes without a tissue handy. 5. Misjudge where a chair is. 6. Take too much spaghetti on my fork. 7. Start reading my book then realise it's upside down. 8. Get lockjaw when I do a really big yawn. 9. Get a tickle in my throat that gives rise to uncontrollable coughing. 10. Find a fly in my eye. 11. Burn my mouth on a hot pie. 12. Get chased by a wasp. Know what I mean?

I starred in my own horror movie scene this morning. I have only just recovered. Never, ever, again. Setting: ladies toilet in local supermarket. Main character: Me. Props: sink, tap, hand dryer. Mood and atmosphere: Pretty cool. Normal. Nothing untoward. No ravens perching on door frames or grey clouds scuttling ominously across the ceiling. No music played on one single out of tune violin string. No sudden dimming of lighting caused by unexpected shorting of fuse leaving ladies toilets in pitch black. Action: Me comes out of cubicle, washes hands. Walks towards hand dryer, humming cheerfully. Places hands underneath hand dryer. Inner thoughts script: Hey! That's a strong hand dryer. In fact, it's a very noisy dryer, too. They don't come noisier. Oh my. That's a really FULL-ON hand dryer. I'm even having trouble keeping my hands underneath it, it's so full-on. I feel the need to look more closely at my hands, they are being so affected by this strong

Over at http://brilliantsulk.blogspot.com/ , A has made a list of things she doesn't want to achieve in her lifetime. This is definitely a bandwagon on which I would like to leap, metaphorically speaking, that is, as leaping onto a real, moving bandwagon is Number 1 on my list of things I never want to achieve. 1. Leap onto a moving bandwagon. 2. Hear a student say, 'You're so boring, I could eat myself.' 3. Visit a public toilet and drag toilet tissue around town on the bottom of my shoe. 4. Be caught snoring in a public library by a George Clooney lookalike library assistant. (Should there be such people, that is.) 5. Drop the jar when I'm eating olives in oil on the bus. 6. Buy tampons, gin, or very large bars of chocolate at the supermarket then find one of my students at the checkout. 7. Buy incontinence pads (for my ELDERLY RELATIVE) at the supermarket and then find one of my students at the checkout. 8. Spell 'there' as 'their' or &

There's a sign on the London Underground that says: 'Dogs must be carried on the escalators'. As an English teacher, I appreciate the humour of the ambiguity. But what if ambiguity isn't your strong point and you take it the wrong way? I would reckon, if so, that you should WATCH OUT! People might take advantage ... "Travelcard, please." "OK, madam. That will be seven pounds exactly. Of course, the dog goes free. [Light-hearted chuckle.]" "Dog?" "Yes, dog. Do you have him down there, at your feet?" [Leans over to see.] "No, that's my new bag. And it's an Armani. Are you trying to be funny?" "No, Madam. It's just that, with this ticket, you need to have a dog with you. For the escalators. You can't go on them unless you're carrying one." "But I don't have a dog." "Well [reassuring no-problem laugh], your train doesn't come for thirty minutes. You have time to

The following is a list of things I would not do on a train. Clip my nails and leave the parings where they landed (ie between the seats, on the floor, in people's hair, lodged in burgers). Rehearse a very poorly-written play out loud for an hour with a friend. Spill mayonnaise from my sandwich onto the floor, then sit with my feet in it so that I spread mayo footprints up and down the aisle. Kiss with tongues, and with lots of noise, until I reached my partner's epiglottis. Fall to sleep on a stranger's shoulder, making 'I'm having an erotic dream' noises. Have a phone conversation about my irritable bowel in pictorial and graphic detail so that the whole carriage of passengers shift uncomfortably in their seats. They are, however, things I have seen done on my last couple of train journeys. I know what you're thinking, if you're a regular reader. 'If she'll eat olives from a jar of oil on a bus, presumably her good behaviour on trai