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Showing posts with label Mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mother. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

The Early Bird Catches Nothing

I'm not a morning person. I never have been and don't think I ever will be. This morning, still dark, not even a bird chirping, I was fast asleep dreaming of my Champagne house with Champagne pool and Champagne husband when...

VIBRATE VIBRATE VIBRATE... ... VIBRATE VIBRATE VIBRATE...

I choose to ignore. But...

VIBRATE VIBRATE VIBRATE... ... VIBRATE VIBRATE VIBRATE...

I look on the phone and see 'Home Sweet'.
Home Sweet my ass.
I answer.

Olive (still half asleep): Really??!?!?!
Mother: Sorry Darling but there's a Kulula sale!
Olive: Stop traffic.
Mother: Shall we book flights?
Olive: It's stil dark outside.
Mother: And the sale's already started! So when do you want to come down?
Olive: When I've had more sleep.
Mother: Come on Darling. What about just before your birthday. I'll take you shopping for presents?
Olive: Book it!

So now I was awake. So I did the unthinkable. I got changed and went to gym. I repeat: I am NOT a morning person. I gym at 5pm. And I don't like change.

Random Gay Man In Pink Gym Top And Spandex: Er, are you using that machine?
Olive: Shhhhh, I'm sleeping.
RGMIPGTAS: Sorry, but if you're not using the machine, can I?
Olive: I'm just having a warm-up nap.
RGMIPGTAS: That's really very selfish of you. I'm calling a PT.
Olive (with the hand gestures and everything): OMG. You wouldn't.
PT: Are you using this machine or can this man get on?
Olive: Man? It's wearing a pink top!
PT: That's very rude. I think you need to give up the machine.
Olive: But I'm using it!
PT: For what?
Olive: As a headrest.
PT: Ma'am...
Olive: Fine!
RGMIPGTAS: Yay!
Olive: Ug, could you BE more gay?!
RGMIPGTAS: Whatevs! 




Friday, October 14, 2011

Weeekeeeeennndddd


Today I am taking half a day, which effectively means I finish in 30 MINUTES! GaaadZOOKS I'm happy! My office is like the 3rd Reich this week, so a weekend away in Simonstown couldn't be more welcome than a hamper of Freezos and Bubbly delivered to my doorstep. Mother rings me last night:

Mother: Are you alive?
Olive: No, I died on Tuesday. Didn't you see the obituary?
Mother: You've fallen off the map this week. Why haven't you returned any of my calls?
Olive: What, all 47 of them?!
Mother: Darling, I just worry when I don't hear from you.
Olive: I've been busy, Mum.
Mother: Busy with?
Olive: Would you like a play by play?
Mother: I just hope nothing is wrong. Have you got some food in your fridge?
Olive: If you count Hunters as food.
Mother: Are you becoming an alcoholic?
Olive: Define alcoholic?
Mother: Oh dear. I'm coming down...
Olive: Mum, it's just for the weekend away.
Mother: Away? Where?! Who is driving you?
Olive: An unhinged, unshaven, unemployed drug-addict on his motorbike. He's picking me up just after dark. Unfortunately he has no spare helmet, so I thought I'm just put a fruit bowl on my head.
Mother: WHAT?!?!
Olive: It's okay Mum, I'm driving with friends.
Mother: Make sure you eat vegetables. You need them for your weak little knees.
Olive: Yes, a piece of broccoli should fix that tendon right up. And a carrot might help it see in the dark!

Mother gave up at that point, made me promise to wear suncream and hung up the phone. Mothers. You got to love them.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Moon-Gag



Am jiggling in my desk chair after looking at these U2 concert photos from Joburg... Yes, I am going on Friday!! I'm so excited I could perform a flick flack across the office. I have even negotiated to get my ass out of work early so I can stand in this rumoured god-forbideen queue that is apparently going to begin on Thursday night. If this is the case then (with me arriving at 4/4:30) I might be able to join the back of it somewhere past Khayelitsha! 

When I told my Mother I was going to the concert, she showered me in a multitude of questions and concerns. But the one that got me laughing the most was, "Darling, you MUST wear a moonbag!" A mooooooooonbag?!?!?!?!? I get that she's worried about pickpocketers but who actually owns a moonbag. It got me laughing even more when I Googled 'moonbag' (to find a picture for this post) and found that in the States it is referred to as a 'fanny pack'. I'm actually still laughing. 

Emailed Mum this morning to tell her I'd rang the 1960s and ordered a sexy fanny pack just for the show. Thinking I was being serious, she begged for a piccie so I sent her this and promised that, after the concert, it's all hers...

She's delighted.