There's a lot to laugh about if you really think about it
Most people say I have a positive attitude because I look on the bright side of life (Monty Python whistle required –HERE-) and others note that I smile a lot. As I’m getting older (and I’m feeling that this month given my son is turning 18), I’m beginning to realise my ‘positive’ attitude is often cynical and that smile is very (oh-shit-please-don’t-notice-I’m-scared-of you) chimpanzee like.
I love how my family will turn just about anything around and laugh at it. For example, I was born with slow reflexes so whenever tripped over something, I wouldn’t put my hands out in front and inevitably this resulted in my nose always being scratched. My parents didn’t think this needed investigating – they just called me Hammer Head.
I would like to say that over the generations, things have changed. When my son was about nine (was that really nearly a decade ago?), the lenses of his glasses fell out, so I put them back in and growled about how he needs to take more care of them. ‘Money doesn’t grow on trees you know. No, we’re not getting another pair right now… Blah blah blah.’
My son put his glasses back on and said he couldn’t see properly but I wouldn’t listen. telling him, ‘I’m onto his wanting a new pair game and it wasn’t going to happen so build a bridge. Blah blah blah.’
Months later I took him to the optometrist for another pair. The guy looked puzzled and after a lot of messing about, asked me, ‘Your son doesn’t have tunnel vision does he?’
I’d put in the lenses back to front. Now there’s a story for the counsellors office. Sorry mate. I was a young mother of little brain.
My sister announced this week, ‘We now have a pirate in the family’. Our parents’ dog Jimmy, or Captain Fluffypaw as he might now be known, lost an eye this week. APPARENTLY, this kind of predicament can occur with dogs of his breed. He is a Japanese Chin. My sister had bought Jimmy for my parents and later took him in when Mum and Dad moved into a nursing home.
She rang me, ‘The breeders did not mention this. They mentioned something about his mouth but no, there was definitely nothing said like, ‘oh, and by the way, his eyes might just pop out one day’.
I went on my first (and last) date for this century this week. No, I’m not that much of a loser, I’ve just have had other priorities.
I think the date was doomed right from the start because the guy shares his name with the fathers of both of my children. Third time lucky, I’ve been told. Ha ha ha, very amusing, not.
I went on the date, after all, as my sister (who is also a look-on-the-bright-side-kind-of-gal. More whistling -HERE-) said, ‘1. The guy’s had a police check (he drives the bus I catch). 2. You know he has a job!’ and ‘3.He can drive (there it is, the dig at the fact that I don’t – it’s the reflex thing THAT NOBODY LOOKED INTO, btw).’
I love how my family will turn just about anything around and laugh at it. For example, I was born with slow reflexes so whenever tripped over something, I wouldn’t put my hands out in front and inevitably this resulted in my nose always being scratched. My parents didn’t think this needed investigating – they just called me Hammer Head.
I would like to say that over the generations, things have changed. When my son was about nine (was that really nearly a decade ago?), the lenses of his glasses fell out, so I put them back in and growled about how he needs to take more care of them. ‘Money doesn’t grow on trees you know. No, we’re not getting another pair right now… Blah blah blah.’
My son put his glasses back on and said he couldn’t see properly but I wouldn’t listen. telling him, ‘I’m onto his wanting a new pair game and it wasn’t going to happen so build a bridge. Blah blah blah.’
Months later I took him to the optometrist for another pair. The guy looked puzzled and after a lot of messing about, asked me, ‘Your son doesn’t have tunnel vision does he?’
I’d put in the lenses back to front. Now there’s a story for the counsellors office. Sorry mate. I was a young mother of little brain.
My sister announced this week, ‘We now have a pirate in the family’. Our parents’ dog Jimmy, or Captain Fluffypaw as he might now be known, lost an eye this week. APPARENTLY, this kind of predicament can occur with dogs of his breed. He is a Japanese Chin. My sister had bought Jimmy for my parents and later took him in when Mum and Dad moved into a nursing home.
She rang me, ‘The breeders did not mention this. They mentioned something about his mouth but no, there was definitely nothing said like, ‘oh, and by the way, his eyes might just pop out one day’.
I went on my first (and last) date for this century this week. No, I’m not that much of a loser, I’ve just have had other priorities.
I think the date was doomed right from the start because the guy shares his name with the fathers of both of my children. Third time lucky, I’ve been told. Ha ha ha, very amusing, not.
I went on the date, after all, as my sister (who is also a look-on-the-bright-side-kind-of-gal. More whistling -HERE-) said, ‘1. The guy’s had a police check (he drives the bus I catch). 2. You know he has a job!’ and ‘3.He can drive (there it is, the dig at the fact that I don’t – it’s the reflex thing THAT NOBODY LOOKED INTO, btw).’
posted by Husky Nutmeg at
1:54 am
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