We’ve all had those moments when our mouths and our brains experience a disconnect. And sometimes even while it’s happening we are completely powerless to stop ourselves. There are other times when we say things with authority without adequate knowledge. I unfortunately succumb to both rather often. This might or might not have something to do with one of my alter ego’s, instrumental in my thought processes during the 90’s and early 2000’s. I’m the one on the right by the way (Pats). My friend Yvette is the one on the left (Eds)
I take you back to circa 2003ish when I was at the peak of my full time mummydom. I also want to acknowledge heritage in this collosal verbal faux pas.
Driving down Anzac Parade past Sydney Football Stadium one Sunday afternoon with The Artist and desperate to appear interesting and make some form of conversation other than that I had successfully managed to get peas or some other kind of vegetable down the gullet of one of my offspring, I remarked on the crowd flocking towards the stadium. “So, the Swans are playing the Roosters today”. Deafening silence.
You get the gist…….I unfortunately at the time didn’t and The Artist spent the trip to St Ives explaining the various rugby codes to me, all the while tut-tutting and shaking his head. Anyone watching might have assumed he had a bad case of Tourettes with all the head shaking that was going on such was his horror.
I will not tell how I was trawling for a picture of Sam Burgess and his brothers to appear above. Fortunately the internet is cleverer than me and apparently they are Rabbitohs.
More recently, at the gym, having a coffee with some mates I remarked that the gentleman cycling next to me (Michael) had an identical twin brother. I then went on to say “And they look quite similar”. Again a deafening silence before Big Kev told me that hands down that was the dumbest thing he’d heard me say – and he talks to me at 5.30am when I’m barely conscious some days.
And then one must recall the design flaw on my car. The one I bitched about non-stop. The one that saw me break many a fingernail in the 11 months preceding the moment when a security guard checking my boot managed to casually open it. But why wasn’t he (like me) hoiking his hand between the bumper and the bottom rim of the boot, wiggling his fingers carefully between the two and lifting the damn thing like it was a 10kg kettle bell?. I kind of wish I had recorded the look on his face when I asked him how he’d done that as I hadn’t seen him crouch down to get to the said point of entry. The subsequent conversation was somewhat confusing when the poor man didn’t understand the question and I couldn’t make myself understood because I saw that he didn’t get his hand underneath the part between the boot and the bumper when opening the hatch. Turns out there’s no design flaw, the logo positioned at waist height at the back of the car is the point of entry and acts as a handle like thing and pushes in so there is no need, no need whatsoever to break anything or be a complete twit. Being a helpful Henry I immediately shared the knowledge with Darren C (in his youth known as DJ Dazza I believe) who at the time had the same vehicle – knowledge is power. Another deafening silence. Accompanied by the relevant Facebook shaming. Which in truth I probably deserved.
There are many many more stories but I must dash and start hauling the offspring off to school.
Love and light