Bits and pieces and Bryan Adams too RM column June 22
BEHIND my cooker is one of those moveable butchers block (well in fairness that is a VERY big description for something so very small) but anyway behind the moveable storage yoke are things like my massive soup pot and other kitchen implements because I have nowhere in the corner that is my kitchen to store them.
And this unit is packed nearly flat against the back of the cooker and wedged at the corner of my bay window.
So there isn't much room in there.
I had occasion to pull the unit out recently because I dropped something behind the cooker and while retrieving it I had to pull everything out, move the table, chairs, and plant on stand. Which was probably a good thing because corners like that in our home tend to be magnetic and pull stuff from everywhere into their abyss.
Or so it would have appeared until tonight. I realise someone has been helping this magnetism with their own brand of recycling. I discovered empty yoghurt cartons, discarded by the Young Wan who somehow has an aversion to bins.
Seriously what is the deal with that? I just do not understand.
Why go to the trouble of throwing them down the back of the cooker knowing they WILL be found never mind the fact that the bin is actually closer and less hassle to throw away properly.
So I retrieved my dropped item, poured a glass of wine, sat down and informed the Young Wan the corner would be cleared of all that rubbish NOW.
I went on to add that 'if we ever get rice or mats I know who is responsible'.
Shish wish I could speak proper but at least I know that in our house I am not the only one.
The Young Wan has come up with a couple of very quotable sayings recently.
The first one is "the tears hurt my eyes" – in true wanna-be Goth style! What can you say to this except to attempt to sing it in a kinda-dark and menacing way ala Marilyn Manson
Later on I asked her: "Am I allowing you to use the phone or am I being a pain in the arse?
This was a rhetorical statement to back up the fact that she could phone her friend but she was told to rinse out the dishes first which was met with the stroppiest manner ever.
So to my question she said 'Yes'.
I replied 'pardon' and she went (louder) 'YES'.
Then she realised she was actually agreeing that I was allowing her to use the phone and I was/am a pain in the arse and laughed heartily to herself.
And why is it that at home sometimes when I ask her something she mutters, mumbles and I have to keep asking her to repeat herself louder and louder.
Yet when we are on a bus, she happily tells stories very loudly that she has to be asked ‘are you telling the whole bus or just me?’.
She also recently found the microphone of her long-abandoned karaoke machine and has been singing along to Brian Adams because *ahem* it is (allegedly) the only tape she can find.
Thankfully she has stopped serenading the street and appears instead to be making some kind of farting noise that is travelling out her bedroom window and through the air into the living room window where I am trying to chill out.
She just came in and asked me if she can sing. And she always could, though you cannot hear it from this evening's performance.
I remember during one holiday Karaoke event where she sang Leann Rimes (or however it is spelt) 'How can I live without you' where she hit perfectly and held that mad high note in 'how can I ever, ever surrRRRVIIIVVEEE'.
However her singing along with Bryan Adams has been a different matter.
She asked me can she sing and I said 'well you used to be able to, I don’t know what is happening in there now'. It appears she wasn't happy with her accompaniment to 'Summer of 69'.
“I thought I could sing, but well just then…”
Then she said 'wouldn't that be a good Redmum column? The Young Wan discovers she can't sing!
Already on it darling, already on it.
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