O my goodness!
You know how I told you that the workmen were coming in today?
Well actually they should have been in on Monday but it was delayed as there has to be an asbestos check on the house…so some other work is being started as of today. Well, at 8.10am the first guy came and then a slew of others came and went as the day went on; to knock out the old kitchen units, strip the wallpaper off the walls, pull up all the floor tiles etc.
And thanks to all their hard work, the room now looks like this.
…and the living room now looks like this….
yep….i can now just sit on the sofa, press a button and get my dinner out of the microwave….or if i’m feeling particularly nergetic…i can send one of the kids to the fridge at the other end of the living room.
As fascinating as this is for you all too read about, i have to tell you about the most embarrassing thing (almost) ever (almost because i have a very good story involving an unexpected visit from an Auntie, a dead sheep and being stranded in the middle of the Scottish countryside for 5 hours).
But i’ll save that for another day.
Today i had to go out and my parents came to house sit while i was gone. They also took Primadonna to school to do her last GCSE exam.
Congrats Primadonna! No more school! College starts in September, but she now has 3 months of doing absolutely the barest minumum of everything!
After i got home, Mum and Dad left and i ventured into the kitchen to find the workmen had gone….and on top of the washing machine was the flask along with the coffee, sugar and tea bags etc that I’d left the workmen, so i didn’t have to keep making drinks for them all day.
Nothing unusual there then….except for when my eyes spotted something strangely familiar and suddenly my jaw hit the floor.
I stood in the middle of the room and said aloud…
‘OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!”
(or something very similar.)
Because those workmen had certainly got more than they had bargained for when they ripped out my kitchen cupboards this afternoon.
Well, y’see, i have this habit of flinging things on top of the wall units to keep them out of the kids reach…when i smoked years ago i would throw my lighters up there…when i was quitting smoking i’d chuck my fags (cigarettes) up there….when i bought the (unbeknownst to me) racy Mills and Boon from the Church Summer Fair….I threw it up there when after reading the first few pages while stirring the spaghetti bolognese…i realised that my cheeks were getting as red as the pasta sauce I was making! I also used to throw up there anything Wonderboy used to use to make loud annoying, repetitive noises….and especially his ‘weapons’…plastic swords, plastic zulu type spit- paper- through- tube thingies etc.
of course, i’d never throw anything up there while Wonderboy was around.
He’s just say things like,
‘Mum, have you seen my plastic real life Action Man power sword that lights up and makes 23,000 different noises’
To which I would reply,
“No, Wonderboy, let me help you look for that”
Or okay, if ‘m honest i would say,
“I’m sure I’ve seen it just the other day……hey, I know where…check upstairs….”
Sometimes he would be lookin’ for days.
But I should have known better.
Because wouldn’t you just know that I forgot all about eveything I threw up there of mine?
So, no, in case you’re wondering why i’m getting this worked up over the Mills and Boon book I tossed up there…it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing. Not by a long shot.
The really embarrassing thing was that some years ago I had wanted to explain the ‘birds and the bees’ to my daughter and so i’d bought a book called ‘Let’s talk about Sex’, thinking it might help me to communicate with her on this ‘sensitive’ topic.
It didn’t. Don’t buy it.
After reading only a insy winsy bit of it i knew i couldn’t possibly use this book to teach my children about sex….and anyway… my son came home from primary school aged 5 or 6 and told me he knew all about the choo-choo train going into the tunnel and that it meant…. ‘making babies’….snigger.
I therefore knew it was uneccessary for me to do the sex talk thing.
Of course, I might have to worry when Wonderboy’s older, if his future wife complains that he spends more time trainspotting than with her, but for now I think he knows what he needs to know. Actually, he’s 12 years old and I think he knows far more than he needs to know, that’s for sure.
So anyway, where do you think I threw this book about sex?
I threw it on the flippin’ cupboard….. and I forgot all about it, didn’t I!
Well, St. Anthony must have been chuckling his head near-off this afternoon when what was once gone was found again, in the hands of all those burly workmen!
BUT there is more…
There was a photo.
No, this is not a picture of yours truly pictured in a compromising encounter…..in fact, I swear that it does NOT feature myself nor anyone else I know.. though i do have it on good authority that a prostitute inhabited the house before me (there were men’ s names written in lipstick on the walls and ceiling of my bedroom when i moved here….with ticks next to their names…like, they were ‘done with’ if you get my drift) so it could well be a picture of her (I never met her, I don’t know) . And do you KNOW how hard it is to paint over red lipstick on the ceiling?
…but OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOLLLYYYYYY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHH…these workmen are going to think i’m a right nympho when they come back to work tomorrow. Especially if they think that the ‘she’ in the photo was once a slim version of ‘me’.
I had to stifle a giggle when the workmens supervisor visited me to check on the work the guys had done thus far….he had his shirt unbuttoned almost half way down his chest and I’m sure there was a twinkle in his eye.
(perhaps the news has spread already?)!