Monday, 3 March 2008

Its the thought that counts.... yeah right.

Mother's Day. Normally a stresser - remembering to send cards, flowers, make that call declaring she is the best Mum in the whole wide world etc. Then I remember - I am now part of this club and boy, I am gonna milk it for all it is worth. I tell husband that I want flowers and a card. Not his usual card giving procedure either - which involves him getting up on THE day, going shopping, returning, disappearing to kitchen and then appearing with card 'Ta Da!' like he had it all along. No, I wanted to wake up to glory, to wallow in the greatest of my maternal nuturings. He was warned - this meant flowers and a card. It is what Finn would have wanted I assured him.

But before I continue I must go back. On Saturday I had a great day. Went to amazing physio who manipulated me in a way that I haven't been since my Mum persuaded me to cut all my hair off (boy stylee) in order to get to wear my school (compulsory) summer dress in 1979. His name was Albert and I love him. He convinced me that my life has been meaningless without daily stretching and that all the world's ills would be cured if we all just got down on the floor and s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d every morning, noon and night. Think about it - animals do it and they don't hobble to physios now do they? He helped the bad back my son helped cause on poonami day last Wed. Wee bunny was in the gym crèche. I was pissed off at husband's no gym show so I took wee bunny to Yo! Sushi as I knew that wee bunny would love it and it would really annoy jealous husband. Bingo. He ate like an angel - causing a terribly posh woman to stride over and tell me how great he was. Posh woman was with her two sons and American (banker??) husband. She was abrasive, arrogant and demanding to the staff and I loathed her. But she complimented bunny so I became putty in her hands... Her eldest son asked how old bunny was - I said 20 months. He thought on this. I said 'He is a year and... " when Posho shushed me with a raised hand and then demanded her brat worked it out for himself. I realised what she was doing. My kid was saintly - she now had to show that her offspring also possessed talents. The poor private schooled child couldn't work it out. I returned to my tempura and carried on helping the bunny to stuff his wee face. Posho's younger son made polite chat and Posho cajoled older son until as they walked out he announced - "One year and 8 months!" She repeated this to me triumphantly. I smiled weakly, thanking god my son was not in her son's class and that my school run would never be one long Olympic competition of one-up-mothership.

Wee bunny and I hot the book store, the play park and then home for a 'Finding Nemo' afternoon. What a movie. the bunny loved it . Now in the book store I purchased a book in the name of research. It was called 'Same sex in the city' and explains how two girls came out as lesbians. I am planning to write a new book with a girl and girl love affair so I thought this would be helpful. wee bunny got Nemo. I got lesbian love affairs. Fair deal. Anyway, Mother's day arrived. I got up to a hungry bunny and discover a pretty but wilting bunch of tulips and pussy willow outside the bedroom door. the way they had been tied suggested husband and nicked these flowers from his hotel display. Next to them lay a card. No, it was actually a piece of white paper. Flimsy and unable to stand up. On it husband had drawn in crayon 'Happy Mother's Day.' Next to it lay the Same sex in the city book. Inside paper husband had written 'Mummy why do you have this book? Do you have something to tell Daddy and I? Are you a closet dyke? I don't understand and neither does Daddy.' What a beautiful sentiment in my card.

Thank god I got cocktails, dim sum and praline cakes at Yauatcha or today husband would be minus a testicle.

Boys - it is never the thought that counts. If husband had read Same sex in the city he would have known this.

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