....and I've seen some things that a woman aint s'posed to see
Hey lady, I've been to paradise but I've never been to me....
(Legs by Love Chunks)
Love Chunks, Sapphire and I spent an elongated Easter (i.e. we had our self-imposed 'Easter Thursday' and 'Recovery Tuesday' days off) on a rented houseboat with Sapph's friend Selene and Melbourne blokes Bill and Ian.
We must have made a funny-looking bunch - was I in some kind of River Murray Mormon marriage arrangement with three blokes and two girls of Ayran extraction, or were we merely six very excited holiday makers who were busy unloading three times more boxes of food and drink than suitcases? Laid-back owner Shane wasn't too fazed, looking us up and down a couple of times and dryly noting: "I reckon I'd get a few more beers in if I was you guys."
The weather was perfect - balmy 28C every day, so the shower was rejected for many dives into the river. After all, it was the same water with just a bit more slime, carp nibbles and suspiciously warm wee patches to add a bit more excitement to both swimming and ablutions.
As with most mates on hols, there always seem to be a few running jokes (apart from Ian's hair and my arse) that are inexplicable to outsiders but seem hilariously funny to those of us in the know. We listened to the boys' Pastel Vespa CD which was not only a gorgeous accompaniment to the scenery before us as we pootled along at a breath-taking 7km per hour, but also great to sing along to. Even the girls loved it - quite cheerily singing along to the chanteuse's cocktail-lounge-Brazilian-sixties-inspired versions of the Angels' 'Am I ever gonna see your face again' (crooned in French), Metallica's 'Enter Sandman', Prince's 'When Doves Cry' and the Cure's 'Let's go to bed'.
In between the boating, swimming, eating, drinking, snacking, eating, drinking, unpeeling Easter eggs, drinking, laughing, swimming, drinking, Trivial Pursuit, singing and eating activities that mostly consumed our waking hours, we got talking about what other songs Pastel could cover. Classics such as Ike and Tina Turners' 'Nutbush City Limits', Black Sabbath's 'Paranoid', Frankie Goes to Hollywood's 'Relax,' the Romantics' 'What I like about you' and perhaps adding a tango beat to Charlene's 'I've been to Paradise (but I've never been to me)' were considered, and then recited as serious-sounding poems.
Put it this way - hearing Bill recite, as a dramatic poem, the never-to-be-forgotten lyrical and musical work of Paul Lekakis (circa 1987):Boom boom boom
Let's go back to my room
Where we can do it
All night ...... (dramatic pause)
And you can make me ..... (dramatic pause)
..... really did add that extra something (joie de vivre? elegance? culture?) to the journey. In addition, we managed to pep things up by including farts, bottom-burps, trouser trumpeters, gas geysers and butt burps in practically every aspect of life on board a tiny vessel. How was I, as a responsible and caring parent, interested in doing the best for my child and ensuring her a happy and productive life, to stop her from audibly letting one rip at the breakfast table when 'Uncle Ian', 'Uncle Bill' and ~blush~ I, had already done so, to a great deal of giggling and self congratulation? I decided to stick with the old chestnut, 'What happens on board, stays on board', and hoped that the others would do the same.
Not so, unfortunately. When Sapphire and I saw Selene back at school the following day, she stood in front of the rest of the class, pointed to me and said, "There she is. Sapphire's Mum farts really loudly and all the time." I should have blushed and denied it, using my natural powers of authority according to age, but I just smiled shyly and basked in their admiring glances instead.