My life often feels like a comedy sketch show. It would be wholly appropriate for someone to follow me around, editing in slots of canned laughter at various points in my day. Today’s sketch is aimed at my bedroom antics.
I’m not some ditzy, brainless knob head. Ok maybe the knob head part could apply to me. I pride myself on being relatively intelligent. I aim to try and learn something new every day.
Intelligence aside, and no I’m not arrogant, I’m just not afraid to highlight my positive traits and confidence. Trust me I’m happy to point out my flaws and ugly traits too. So intelligence aside, I somehow manage to lack a certain amount of common sense.
I think a lot of problems with common sense were apparent back in school days. The teachers used to say the answer was right there in front of me. But I was alway looking past the easy answer and searching for the more complex answer. Believing problems are never solved with the easy answer.
Just in case my lack of common sense isn’t enough of a giggle for you, my knob bead tendencies also mean I regularly put my foot in it when talking to people. Usually people can see the funny side as it’s never intended in an offensive way. I always go out of my way to make people happy.
This week has been hectic, preparing for holiday and lots of birthdays to buy for and send out and visit people. The washing pile is always the Bain of my life. We had booked for my friends hubs, Mike, to come and renew our fence. He’s a fab handyman and has now hand made us a beautiful fence for the front of our house.
The evening before, chatting to hubs about our plans for the next day, I said to him I would be putting washing away up in our bedroom whilst our friend Mike replaced the fence.
I often play through scenarios of how events and situations will go. In my head I thought about offering Mike a cuppa and then using my child free time to get the clean washing put away, maybe even packing for holiday. George would be at preschool so it would get done in no time. I would want Mike to know that I wasn’t going to stand and watch him work but that I’d be available if he wanted a drink making or if he needed to run anything past me. Then it popped into my head;
“If you want me Mike, I’ll just be in the bedroom!”
Yeah that sounds wholly inappropriate! Way to give our newly made friends the wrong impression about me. Smiling to myself at the idiocy of this, had I actually said it without pre-thinking it, hubs asked me what I was smiling at. I told him and he laughed and promptly declared me a knob head which we do, cussing and sarcasm is our thing.
I thought it was funny, so the next day I told Mike the story anyways. Then I thought I’d better text his wife in case they were both new to my humour and he went home and declared me a home wrecker. And people say I over think things! (Shrugs and winks)
On the subject of Mike, and no I’m not obsessed he’s just pretty much one of the few adults I’ve spent time with this week. I messaged him the day before the impending fence job to tell him I had cleared the bits in the garden and woke up all the big spiders. Remember Fred? He replied;
“Marvellous, no creepy little buggers to deal with, hopefully”
“No,” I responded by tapping into my messenger “I’ll keep George indoors out of the way” Gave hubs a titter.
We have this thing, me and hubs. We’ve agreed that he kind of sets the bar for whether something is funny or not. It actually takes a lot to make me laugh. Except myself. I can bring myself to hysterics, I’m talking crying with laughter. Aside from Dad jokes, I’m slow on the uptake and whilst I might smile and appreciate the hilarity of something, it’s rare I proper belly laugh. So hubs is the decider on whether something is funny.
I thought my response to Mike was pretty clever, made me smile so it must’ve been funny. I told hubs and he smiled. One more for the canned laughter crowd.
Finally for this week, on the advice of another friend, I thought I’d share with you another knob head decision. We are almost a year since George was potty trained, yet we go through phases of him wetting himself several times a day. Not fancying a million accidents on our roadtrip, I thought I’d dash out early this morning and grab some pull-up’s. So focused on price…one brand was £7 was 20 odd! I grabbed the supermarket own brand. They had a choice of pink or blue (let pull-ups be pull-ups ffs!). Grabbing the blue, I paid and headed home.
Uber efficient I shredded the receipt before tearing open the pack and asking George to take his kecks off so we could put the pull-up on ready for our trip. As a grabbed a pull-up I thought it rather large. I’ve bloody picked up a pack for 8-12 year olds! Dammit! The branding is slightly misrepresentative, as friends have pointed out. What a twat. Off hubs went to buy the right size.
Moral of the story? Don’t shop on an empty stomach before 8am in the morning when you have a million things to do in your head and a time restraint. Just pay the £7!
Have you done or said anything silly this week? Go on, try and make me smile.