Thursday, 20 August 2009
A child's guide to the World Athletics Championships
Sunday, 16 August 2009
Wish you were here - postcards from the edge of sanity
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Dear Righteous Lady on the Tube
If I open the window at the end of the carriage it is to increase ventilation on a hot stuffy day.
If you would prefer to smell other people's body odours for the duration of your journey, that is fine with me, just do it somewhere else. Do NOT, however, close the window again.
Next time I will personally eject you from the train. At the station of course. And there will cheering from the sidelines.
Yours hot and bothered,
LCM
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Dear Very Obviously Pregnant Lady on the Tube
I am happy to give up my seat for you. You don't have to ask. In fact, you never do. I wish you would. This is the third time in two weeks I have done this whilst that fat bloke over the aisle pretends to have found a VERY interesting article to read in the Metro (what tripe), and daggy-boy with the jeans below his ar*e claims ownership not just of the 'priority' seat, but also of the whole area around him.
Please be more forceful. You have earned the right to sit down. You have a voice - USE IT.
It is hard enough dealing with rush hour without having to fight battles on your behalf in a gesture of sisterly solidarity.
Your compassionate knight(ess) in shining armour,
LCM
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Dear Mr Man and Widget
When mummy says "No more water games please," she really means it.
Stop. Now. Or. Else.
Wetly,
Your intolerant mother
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Dear Blossom
Cleaning up after your brothers will earn you a gold star.
Whinging about it will not.
Ticking them off for making a mess in the first place will only have your father comment how much you sound like me.
Your elder twin
Mother
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Dear Other Half
Can you please stop eating the special treats that are for the children's packed lunches? They are disappearing in half the time they should and yes I know you are also hot and bothered when you get back from work and want 'something' with a nice cup of tea. I know you like chocolate but M&M's are not quite up there with Green & Blacks.
Unless you are a child. And last time I looked I had three, not four. Children, that is.
Yours
Chief Grocery Shopper
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Dear Station Master
Next time you tick me off for using the exit gate at my tube stop that is supposedly only for prams/wheelchairs/mobility impaired individuals/people with bad knees, are you planning to arrest me?
Treating me like a disobedient child will only encourage me to do it more often. It is a lesson we understand well in my household.
Yours
Little Miss Naughty
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Sunday, 9 August 2009
Experimenting with titles 2
Anyway, a couple of years ago I went on a business trip with a colleague and my boss. To cut a long story short, I ended up having to book the flights, and... yes, you guessed it, I decided it would be amusing to give all of us some titles.
I was very demure and resorted to being a mere Professor on this occasion. Probably explains why I have now graduated to Countess.
The other two guys did not even realise what I had done until one was offered an upgrade. He thought he had struck it lucky but could not understand why the hostess kept calling him Lord So-and-So.
As for my boss, well he just thought I was going through a spiritual phase of some sort (he has had to put up with quite a lot over the years) as I kept on saying "Amen" at the end of any of our conversations. It wasn't until he was greeted as a Reverend by the passport control guy that the penny dropped.
In true bloke style they have conveniently forgotten this whole episode.
Wednesday, 5 August 2009
Experimenting with titles
Whilst this is nothing new in itself (aside from the person I seem to have to deal with on the other end of the phone when making queries being persistently unhelpful, so much for 'previous medical history disregarded' being flagged as such a big selling point to us poor employees who actually have no say in the matter), it did mean that I had to follow the instructions on the internal email (see? I am trying to comply... even though it pains me) and log-on to my account to verify details....
My postcode was incorrect, so I amended this.
And then I thought, why stop there?
So from now on you may refer to me as 'Countess'.
I even got a letter in the post yesterday addressed accordingly, validating the changes made.
Yes, very childish, but oh so amusing :-)