Bah Humbug.
Let the games begin.
'Where are we having dinner this year?' My paramour asked, quietly pulling his socks as though he was felling trees and blowing up buildings with Semtex. Any minute now he's going to over flip his van by driving it up a bank of clay.
De dit de, dit de de, diddle de dutt dit de, da de diddle du!
'Dunno.' I replied, grabbing piggy and diving deeper under the duvet.
Dive! Dive, periscope down!
Eek, tapping on the submarine walls? What's that, Morse code? Dolphins? Bees? Beephins? It better not be a whale shark, we're scared of them piggy, oh yes. They only eat crill my arse.
Suddenly a great flash of light, and cold, sooo veryyyyy coooold.
The hull capin' she cannae take it!
'You must have spoken to Etheline about it.'
'Who?' I say squintingly, wincingly, sqincingly.
'E-t-h-e-l-i-n-e.'
'No, no conversations.' I inch away, back into my fox hole. If I move fast I can catch up. The dark swallows me. Warmth. I close my eyes. There! In the distance. Look piggy, an island. Ohhh, a hammock. We like them piggy. Say, I like the way you've suddenly turned into a Polly Pocket Pony. Let's ride! Hi-ho Piggy Pony awayyyyy!
''Because your elder sister mentioned something the last time we were out there.'
Sigh, damn and blast.
Oh gossamer sleep, fingers fading, drifting away back to the underworld. Goodbye! I will see you later. Wave good bye piggy! Bye! We love you!
Wap!
'Paramour I don't know. The lilac One wants us to go to her house, that's the last I heard about it.'
'Humf.' My future husband says, fastening his watch, shooting delph with a blunderbuss. 'Why don't we have it?'
'Say what now?'
'Why don't we have it?'
'Oh I don't know, too many people for here.'
'Not here, at the new house. I mean the kitchen's in.'
Suckered in, pushed around, no sir, not at this door, not even if there's a thud and one week later the smell is so bad you need a hanky across your mouth to keep from passing out, don't come knocking, not for any reason, not on this door, do you get me sweetheart?
Oh Jack.
'Erm.'
'Just think about it. Our first Christmas dinner. Might be nice.'
He kisses me on the top of the head and leaves to make coffee.
The bigger of the cats joins me as soon as the door is open.
'Mi-narp?'
I dance piggy across the bed to him in a tippity-tap fashion. 'I've got something in my front pocket for you...why don't you put your hand in a give it a squeeze...' I sing in a 1940's wobbly voice, waggling piggy's feet.
The bigger of the cats bashes piggy's poor head twice with blinding speed and razor sharp claws. I stop tormenting him immediately.
Oh if only Paramours were so easy to train.
'Where are we having dinner this year?' My paramour asked, quietly pulling his socks as though he was felling trees and blowing up buildings with Semtex. Any minute now he's going to over flip his van by driving it up a bank of clay.
De dit de, dit de de, diddle de dutt dit de, da de diddle du!
'Dunno.' I replied, grabbing piggy and diving deeper under the duvet.
Dive! Dive, periscope down!
Eek, tapping on the submarine walls? What's that, Morse code? Dolphins? Bees? Beephins? It better not be a whale shark, we're scared of them piggy, oh yes. They only eat crill my arse.
Suddenly a great flash of light, and cold, sooo veryyyyy coooold.
The hull capin' she cannae take it!
'You must have spoken to Etheline about it.'
'Who?' I say squintingly, wincingly, sqincingly.
'E-t-h-e-l-i-n-e.'
'No, no conversations.' I inch away, back into my fox hole. If I move fast I can catch up. The dark swallows me. Warmth. I close my eyes. There! In the distance. Look piggy, an island. Ohhh, a hammock. We like them piggy. Say, I like the way you've suddenly turned into a Polly Pocket Pony. Let's ride! Hi-ho Piggy Pony awayyyyy!
''Because your elder sister mentioned something the last time we were out there.'
Sigh, damn and blast.
Oh gossamer sleep, fingers fading, drifting away back to the underworld. Goodbye! I will see you later. Wave good bye piggy! Bye! We love you!
Wap!
'Paramour I don't know. The lilac One wants us to go to her house, that's the last I heard about it.'
'Humf.' My future husband says, fastening his watch, shooting delph with a blunderbuss. 'Why don't we have it?'
'Say what now?'
'Why don't we have it?'
'Oh I don't know, too many people for here.'
'Not here, at the new house. I mean the kitchen's in.'
Suckered in, pushed around, no sir, not at this door, not even if there's a thud and one week later the smell is so bad you need a hanky across your mouth to keep from passing out, don't come knocking, not for any reason, not on this door, do you get me sweetheart?
Oh Jack.
'Erm.'
'Just think about it. Our first Christmas dinner. Might be nice.'
He kisses me on the top of the head and leaves to make coffee.
The bigger of the cats joins me as soon as the door is open.
'Mi-narp?'
I dance piggy across the bed to him in a tippity-tap fashion. 'I've got something in my front pocket for you...why don't you put your hand in a give it a squeeze...' I sing in a 1940's wobbly voice, waggling piggy's feet.
The bigger of the cats bashes piggy's poor head twice with blinding speed and razor sharp claws. I stop tormenting him immediately.
Oh if only Paramours were so easy to train.
posted by fatmammycat at 10:02 a.m.
14 Comments:
You're having Christmas din negotiations... now?! I started mine back in October!
Did you put the kitchen 'in' yourselves?
Not really, we didn't. The two nice men did, but me and the paramour supervised/helped/got in the way.
Definitely suckered in - and as the divine Jack said, "Is this as good as it gets"? One of my all time favourite movies!
Christmas at your new house - it's a lovely idea, but it's maybe not the best time to try out a new oven in a new kitchen, unless you have had a practice run! But it is nice to be the one in charge of the festivities, you get to choose goose or turkey, what games, if any, and set the whole pace for the day (i.e. champagne, mimosa, kir royale - to all guests on arrival, so they are all merrily sloshed by the time you serve lunch, and if you have a piano you can make them all sing, so no family fights!)
Hah! It's one of my favourites too.
But God no Shebah to the house thing, maybe next year. It's true that we have a kitchen in, but that's about all we have in. The floors haven't been laid in the living room yet-although himself is convinced they will be before Christmas and it hasn't been painted yet either. Frankly it would be better to let my elder sister hold it as the kids will be at home and when they get over tired and cranky-as they do- at least they are at home and can chill out.
I really like the piano idea. That's something to look into for the future. I can't play, but I wouldn't mind learning. I had lesson as a child, but it was on Saturday and I hated the woman so much I used to pretend I was sick every week. Eventually my mother gave up trying to get me to go. I almost regret it now.
Almost.
I took the Saturday AM piano lessons as well. I never practiced until that morning, at 8am, so when I suggested that I stop taking the lessons, the whole family was relieved.
Lucky you, my mother forced my brother and me to go for months before she finally capitualted. It was pure snobbery with her too, it's not like either of us ever expressed an interest in learning it. She just wanted to say we went to piano.
Child abuse, I'm telling you, pure child abuse.
My piano teacher ate pork-pies, crisps and smoked during my lessons. I hated her with a vitriol she clearly didn't deserve and which I can't entirely shake even now.
I managed, through a sustained and quite beautifully realized campaign of pestering to convince my mother to let me stop going: the pinnacle of my pestering years, I think.
It'd be nice to get the place feeling like your own home and having the paint dry at least before flinging the doors open to family and friends for dinner. On the other hand, if there are lots of live wires and ungrounded sockets lying around all over the place where your relatives might be sitting... some careful seating arrangements of the shriller family members... "well, it was an accident wasn't it? I can hardly be blamed for causing a loved one to miss the New Year's party on account of having singed eyebrows, now, can I?"
Don't ask me how I know so much about such a scenario. It's not as if I've spent any time imagining how it would play out.
Ohhh Miss Sam! You have it down pat! I mentioned to evil Etheline what my dear great silly love said and she was aghast!
'Do you even have cable?' She asked in the same way as she might have asked 'do you really want my kidney?'
I'm almost tempted, just to annoy the sister I love so much, to offer my services. (I won't of course, but tempted)
Ohhh Miss Sam! You have it down pat! I mentioned to evil Etheline what my dear great silly love said and she was aghast!
'Do you even have cable?' She asked in the same way as she might have asked 'do you really want my kidney?'
I'm almost tempted, just to annoy the sister I love so much, to offer my services. (I won't of course, but tempted)
Ohhh Miss Sam! You have it down pat! I mentioned to evil Etheline what my dear great silly love said and she was aghast!
'Do you even have cable?' She asked in the same way as she might have asked 'do you really want my kidney?'
I'm almost tempted, just to annoy the sister I love so much, to offer my services. (I won't of course, but tempted)
Or the toaster could somehow accidentally get wired to the punchbowl just as the relative reaches out for some yuletide refreshment.
Or a pack of wild dogs could mysteriously run through the house and maul the unfortunate relative who for some reason has a pound of sausages in her pocket that he/she can't remember buying.
Or a bloke called Viktor could (how nice!) stop by with some surprise sushi.
I wish I knew a sushi delivering Victor, where can a gal get herself one of those?
i know i'm several days late and a dollar or two short, but this was one of the finest posts i've read in a long time.
i heart fatmammmycat.
Squeeeeeee! Since I cannot post on your site at the moment, let me take this chance to tell you I laughed until I got a stitch at the er...dog on cat action! Champion!
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