Early doors

It’s two in the morning and here I am blogging despite having an early appointment tomorrow. What’s going on?

Well, let me fill you in.

About an hour after climbing into my pit for some much needed shut-eye a band of merry workmen decided to turn up and do some work in the field directly in front of our house. These guys clearly enjoy their work. I could tell by all the laughing, shouting and jocularity, floodlights lighting up the area, smashing of holes in brick walls with lump hammers, generators running and general disturbing of my peace.  That, combined with Mr Snory adding his two penn’orth to the general melee with his latest selection of snores delivered at ear splittingly loud volumes to make sure I didn’t miss any of the finer nuances in the  tone and pitch,  finally drove me downstairs. Ggggggrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!

So, ho sodding hum. What am I going to do now?  (twiddles thumbs)

Shall I tell you how it suddenly occurred to me tonight that I have finally turned into my Mum?

We had a chinese take away tonight on account of the fact that I haven’t been food shopping for ages and the fridge, bread bin, cupboards and freeezer are all looking more than a little depleted. Our house is an anorexics paradise at the moment.  I opted for a special chow mein and a glass of shiraz. Very nice.  Just after I’d finished eating my  fellow photography geek friend phoned so I sat happily chatting to her for a while and indulged in another glass or two of wine.

Dangerous combination for a diet that, chinese food and red wine. As we all know, an hour after eating a chinese you’re hungry again and red wine always gives me the munchies in the way that a spliff gives people the munchies (so I’m told by those who have tried such things).

Boofuls, however did not enjoy his take away, his dish of the day was sweet and sour chicken with chips. It was disgusting, even by my standards and that’s saying something. It was so disgusting that it went in the bin. If that meat was chicken I’ll paint myself purple and run naked down the street shouting ‘cock a doodle do.’

‘Yes, it’s all very interesting but what’s it got to do with turning into your Mum?’

Patience, dear reader, I’m getting there.

While I was in the phone chatting to my friend and hiding from the James Bond film that Boofuls was watching, he popped his head round the door and announced he was going out for a decent chinese. What he came back with was fruit teacakes.  Mmmmmmmmm!!

Of course as the evening wore on the munchies set in, in an absence of chocolate in the house my attention turned to the teacakes. I buttered one and sat on the settee absent mindedly eating it when I realised that what I was actually doing was ripping bits off it and sitting there like a gerbil with a bit in each hand as I munched – exactly as my Mum used to do. The times I took the mickey out of her for her gerbil impression and now I’m doing it too!!!  Oh. My. God.

As if I don’t already see her every time i look in the mirror, now I’ve picked up her mannerisms as well!

There may be a lot of truth in that saying: ‘If you want to know what the girl will be like, look at the mother.’

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One thought on “Early doors”

  1. I think your logic of looking to the parents to know what children will be like is a good rule to follow in general, but I know that speaking for the case of my step-sister and myself, both of us have ended up very little like our parents (though my brother is a near carbon copy of my mother).

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