Monday, September 14, 2009

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."


River said...

His beloved Mrs. Krups?? Err, I thought he had a Gaggia.....
i've never unintentionally head butted a dog, but I have several times unintentionally collided with my babies, they'll be reaching over to bite my nose just as I'm leaning over to kiss their cheek or whatever. Really brings tears to the eyes, doesn't it?
I agree with LC, us readers don't like to be interrupted. My L will happily stay silent for hours if I'm sitting doing nothing, he assumes I'm watching the TV as he is, but the minute I open a book, or a blog, he suddenly just HAS to tell me the minute by minute run down of his day. Ditto when I've just got home from work where I have to talk to the customers and all I want is a few hours of silence..........

River said...

Bugger! Forgot my main point. Chocologist does sound so much more important than chocoholic.

Baino said...

That's it, I'm a foodologist and an alcologist from now on. Had a similar smack on the side of the head when I ran into a recently watered hanging pot plant whilst retrieving the hose last night. Sploshed cold water all over my T and knocked my glasses off. Ditz! I wish I had a cappucino machine. . .

Lorna Lilo said...

Every day events can lead to injury. I have a sports injury, the only one I've ever had. I walked into the exercise bike at the gym. What a stupid place to put a bike.


Helen said...

I accidentally headbutt my dogs ALL the time, they really do have hard heads! Otherwise they forget to stop rnning and collide with my knees. I think if I ever wore sorts people would think I'd been abused between all the anmal-bite scars and dog-collision bruises...

Youo should find the latin term for chocolate, it would make chocologist sound so cool!

Anonymous said...

Could call yourself a "Cioccolatologist".

I thot it was only Rob who needed full concentration when reading newspaper...

Difficult for me to understand as I usually watch TV and read at the same time...

JahTeh said...

All the time this blog contains TMI but now you leave out the whereabouts of pimples.

Lately I've been pretty good with only walking into a door but I have in the past closed a door on the right boob. Taught me a lesson that did, always hold 'em if you must walk the house nekkid.

Sophie said...

Ohmygod - your daughter's comment about the pimples was hilarious!

You know - maybe this was her way of telling you even if you ARE supermum you will STILL be weird.

And not to try to bust a gut so much?

(Yeah - says me.)