a little light relief

dear readers, i feel it is time for a little light relief. this is not something rude. it is a saying meaning time for a bit of a chuckle. herself has a running list of blog fodder. life throws blog fodder our way relentlessly. what with our recent dramas the list is getting unwieldy. so today's post is an effort to wade through the list.

this picture is of the front page of herself's website. a new friend at work has said some magic words that have persuaded herself to get off her rather large but nevertheless perfectly formed backside and sort out her entry into e-commerce. my boy liked the sound of e-commerce. he thought it was a way of purchasing the forbidden e-numbers over the internet. but he was rapidly disabused of this misapprehension by herself, who went on to say that in spite of her extensive marketing efforts she had yet to sell a single item.

"well, i expect everyone thinks you are a nutter!" said himself, helpfully. my boy is a more sensitive soul and gave herself a hug.

"don't worry mummy, i'm sure you'll get some orders soon," he said. herself noticed the contrast.

"sweetie, do you think you could give daddy some social skills lessons on the way to meeting the taxi?" she asked. i felt a point was being made here, but it was too subtle for me. himself jumped on the bandwagon.

"i'm sure you will get some orders soon. i expect people are waiting for birthdays, or christmas." my boy shook his head slowly and said ruefully

"stolen words, daddy, stolen words."

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a while ago (you see how long it has taken me to get anywhere with the list?) the peeps were watching football. or more accurately my boy and himself were watching football and herself was moaning about football.

my boy pointed to a lady sitting in the crowd, upon whom the camera lingered for longer than usual.

"who does she think she is, the queen?" asked my boy, noticing her slightly aloof air.

"er, yes," said himself, "she is the queen of spain."

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mrs lupin visited recently. she is the human who belongs to lupin, who my longstanding readers will recall. she did not bring lupin this time. mrs lupin and herself were sitting chatting about what their respective young folks wanted to be when they grew up. lupin's girl (who in the past was known as lupin's wild girl but who has calmed down much as my boy has with the advent of teenagehood) wants to work with horses. herself was much in favour of this. she said she wished my boy would do something so sensible.

"at the moment he wants to be an assassin," she said. "i have explained to him that i will find it very difficult being the glowing proud mother at social occasions telling people about 'my son, the brilliant assassin', but so far he is immune to my entreaties."

i have always found being an assassin to be a very rewarding profession. unfortunately i was compulsorily retired in my prime...

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my readers who have been around for a while will remember the whole cookery lesson business. my boy is something of a natural cook. unfortunately, while he takes after himself in the cooking field, he takes after herself in the organisational skills field. there has been a repeat of the apple crumble fiasco recently involving chicken stir fry. herself does not eat meat and refuses to have anything to do with the chicken side of things. so it fell to himself to ready the ingredients for the stir fry.

week 1 went reasonably well. chicken was purchased in time. the only way this could be assured was through multiple reminders. my boy put a reminder on his mobile phone. herself put a reminder on the calendar. this is a google calendar which in turn sends a message to as many places as you choose. so my boy had another message from google saying "chicken!" herself had one on her phone too, as well as an e-mail. in addition there was a note on the table saying "chicken!". in case none of this worked herself drew a large chicken and placed it on the table. the cookery lesson went well and my boy enjoyed his stir fry for tea. himself was equally impressed.

on week 2 my boy said he needed ingredients for stir fry again. this was at 9pm the day before.

"i'll have to go in the morning," grumbled himself. this meant very early in the morning as my boy and himself have to head off at 7.30am to meet my boy's taxi at 8am in the town where we used to live. the morning dawned and with much troll-like behaviour himself furnished my boy with his ingredients.

when he got home my boy said "it was the wrong week!" it seems that the chicken was needed for the following week. so those who are meat eaters had the stir fry for tea.

on week 3 the whole sorry story was repeated again. and again my boy came home saying that this week had only been a practice run. the banquet for which the cooking was being done was in fact next week.

week 4 had everyone in a state of high alert. the chicken was purchased in time, lemon sauce was poured, vegetables were organised. as my boy and himself were about to leave herself said,
"i hope it really is this week!"

himself did not look amused at the possibility of further chicken-fetching expeditions.

"if it isn't this week you will have to tell them that the chicken mountain has crumbled, the lemon sauce lake has dried up, the stir fry forest caught fire and we have run out of money!" he retorted, flouncing out of the door as only a man with a beard and a belly can flounce.

luckily this was the right week. my boy's teacher was impressed with his culinary skills and he came home with a beautiful place mat that he had made. i have to say i am a bit relieved...