Sails. Wind. Mine.
On Friday night Love Chunks, Sapphire and I walked down to the local strip to have some Thai food for dinner.
In the tastefully decorated restaurant, I sat back against the wall, leaning up against some silk cushions and gazed up at the umbrellas-posing-as-lightshades and said, "You know, I've just realised something."
Sapphire put her chopsticks down, interested. "What, Mum?"
"I've learned that if there's an 'aholic' at the end of your job title, it's not a good thing. You know like 'alcoholic' and, in my case, chocoholic."
She turned back to the ginger prawns. "BUT -----" - I hadn't made my point yet --- "But if there's an 'ologist' at the end, you're revered as being knowledgeable, experienced and respected. You know, like your dad as a meteorologist and your Auntie, a molecular biologist. Therefore---" I gazed at her proudly, "I'm going to call myself a Chocologist to join the ranks of the intelligent and informed!"
Sapphire rolled her eyes and pointed at my crotchular region with her chopstick. "Well, Chocologist, you might want to pick off those two prawn tails and clump of rice you've just dropped on your zipper."
The next morning we all slept in until 8:30 and Love Chunks made us both a cup of coffee from his beloved Mrs Krups machine.
"Ahhhh," I sniffed in appreciation before taking the first sip. "I love Saturday mornings because you haven't left for work and we get to sit here together, taking our time having coffee and a chat."
"Mmmm." His head was firmly in the Sports section.
"So I'll just pop into the study to check a few emails----"
Love Chunks looked up, smiling, "Oh, so you're not going to actually spend time sipping coffee with me then?"
"Well you're always reading and hate it when I interrupt you to chat inanely about how much you were snoring last night because it had been a dry wind and obviously the hayfever season has arrived and how I was going to tell you that I actually took a photo of the friction rash under my right armpit and am now not sure if it's suitable for publishing on the blog because it might be a bit repulsive even though I wanted to make a point about how I love running even when injuries occur, but you're right, I do love sitting here with you, talking."
"Nah it's OK, I actually do want to read the paper."
"Yeah I thought you did, you were just teasing me weren't you, Oh Pompous One?"
He smiled. "And yet she still keeps chatting."
It was a good thing, then, that neither Love Chunks nor Sapphire saw me a little later day, bending over to pat Milly at the exact second she leapt up in an attempt to lick me so that the bridge of my nose met her rock-hard head in a powerful SMACK, momentarily blinding me as I staggered around and around our tiny patch of lawn, whimpering, "Bloody hell, Mills! What's your head, an anvil?" before clumsily thwacking my elbow against the supporting pole of the verandah and collapsing into the lavender bush.
If they notice the mess, I'll blame it on the rabbit. The sneaky little beast wreaks havoc in the garden.
Sapph, Milly and I were walking to school this morning when Sapph grabbed my hand and said, "You know Mum, I feel really sorry for you."
Me thinking: Well yes, I have a lot of my plate at the moment and yet am still running a tight ship at home, keeping fit, doing my bit for the community, getting some decent writing gigs, seeing a few doors open, allowing Sapphire to host loads of playdates and spending a lot of quality time together with her, planning a trip interstate, keeping migraines mostly at bay.... it's nice for her to notice that her mother is superhuman after all.......
Me, out loud, smiling in anticipation: "Why do you think that?"
"Because you get pimples in the weirdest places."