Thursday, 25 August 2016

Monster mash...

Son number one has returned from somewhere in Asia, sporting a rather unusual pair of shorts which wouldn't look out of place in Bangkok, but here?  Well he just looks like someone who has escaped from some type of institution, and not in a good way either. 

The conversation invariably turned to his dirty clothes.  He had been really well organised, and had taken a carrier bag so that he could separate the dirty clothes from the clean when he came back. Now there was only one bag of clothing, so either he wore every single item, or he took all the dirty stuff to a laundrette out there, anticipating the fact that I have a day off on Friday and won't want to be messing about with washing.  I'll give you one guess as to which way this went.  Needless to say, I will be adding a third load of washing to my list of 'Things to Do' on my day off.

Son number two hit IKEA today.  He and the BFF had gone down with the intent of buying everything he would need in his new student home (I would have thought that a blow up mattress, a year's worth of Resolve and the local takeaway's menu would have been enough, but apparently not).  He had a long, well thought out list of things to buy.  This was left on the table of the first place they stopped for a coffee, and son number two, having the short term memory of a goldfish could remember nothing.

He came back home with a hanging rail, a bedside table and a mirror - these are the three things that I had already put aside for him.  Of course, he remembered the really important stuff and managed a bowl of meatballs. I mean, it's the law to have these on your first visit, isn't it?

The whole IKEA shopping system has passed him by.  He is used to John Lewis, where polite staff help you choose the right item, wrap it beautifully and then bring it to your car.  What he hadn't anticipated was wandering round room after room, pointing at various things, and saying 'That's nice', and then being left alone in a giant warehouse to look for his stuff himself.  Perhaps that's why he came back with so little - the three things he bought must have all been at the front by the plants.

Going back to son number two, he had requested sausage and mash for dinner after eating noodles for a month.  I cooked thirty sausages, thinking that that would be enough to have some left over to make the husband a sausage sandwich for his lunch today.  How na├»ve I was....

The returned traveller managed twelve on his own, claiming that he had not tasted proper food for a month.  Of course, when you have no competition other than a bug infested breakfast or slimy noodles and rice, anything I did would have been spectacular.

As he went back for sausages 10, 11 and 12, son number one looked up and said,

'Blimey, you do miss those Thai women don't you'.

Nervous laughter all round and a rapid change of subject...

There's more to this, I'm sure...
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