This weekend just gone old mate Clogs came for a visit, I've only seen her a couple of times since leaving the digs in Worthing last year so a weekend of gossip, movie watching, gorging on Party Rings and Maltesers and general shenanigans and chicanery was the order of the mainly miserable and damp squib of a December Weekend.
A varying amount of cheesy and festive with a pinch of utter mystical genius was on the televisual menu...going with The Proposal, 17 Again, Home Alone and the Beeb's Merlin for our amusement. I still find Home Alone highly amusing...in my slightly disturbed 'other peoples pain is funny' brain. It worked for Tom & Jerry for decades.
On the Saturday we ventured into town where the masses were attempting to Christmas shop with screaming children, doddering Grandparents, and spouses who had lost their patience by the time they had parked the car and just want to get back home in time for the Footie....Good times. The Salvation Army were attempting to infuse a touch of Christmas cheer with their brass band version of festive classic tunes only to be drowned out by Nobby Holder belting out 'I----t---'s Ch----ri----st---mas' in every store you enter.
Reading the above it would appear as though I have a rather cynical approach to Christmas and granted I may be happier if it were all hand crafted markets in lantern lit streets which are dusted with snow, while nostrils are accosted with the smell of chestnuts, toffee apples and other such sweet goodies served from road side carts, as harmonised choirs belt out traditional festive tunes...but apparently it is no longer the era of Charles Dickens...so I mildly tolerate the 21st century approach to Christmas shopping...and then high-tail it back to my humble abode where I log onto t'internet as every item on my list was out of stock/not available/highly over priced in the high street.
Anyhoo, I digress, Chloe and I managed to squeeze in a visit to an old School friend, two as it happened when Kieran happened to be at Daniel's when we arrived. Close to 15 years since we left secondary school...Christ that makes me feel old...and although our paths have crossed intermittently over the subsequent years none of us manage to see each other as often as we'd like. The fellas are both now married and even have mini-me's, which I still find oood, since I still feel about 16 and am certainly not in any rush to reproduce. This didn't mean I didn't have an absolute blast hanging out with 2 year old Oliver (I didn't have my camera so images will have to be asserted by your own imagination). Young Oliver had a variety of cars, books, bricks, teddies and other such devices to reach out to his uber short attention span, though generally Oliver seemed satisfied to drop one item on top of another from a height in a 'scientific' approach to discern the toys' durability...and repeat.
Climbing, also a favourite game...especially when, to prevent head trauma, I would grab him off his precarious position on the edge of the couch.....and then hang him upside down while tickling his tummy...all fun until the littl'un turned an interesting shade of green, at which point it was time to hand him back to Dad. Another great distraction we found was the trusty TV, on which Transformers 2 entertained young Oliver with explosions and fighting robots and entertained Kieran and Daniel with the lady lumps of Megan Fox and Isobel Lucas....Tiring of the 21st century bilge I spotted an all time classic and spit the dummy, more impressively than any 2 year old, until Daniel put on....The Goonies. Oliver seemed to be very impressed, transfixed even, with the 80's, goofy, actiony classic and also my ability to quote every line for it's 114 minute duration.
Also there was the 'teach the sprog a new word or phrase' game...largely for the amusement of the ...ahem...adults in the room...by the time Clogs and I left, little Oliver had 'tit's up' and 'Hey, you guys' down pat...he's going to be the most popular kid at nursery ;-)
So that was my weekend, next weekend I'm London bound to catch up with Ally and check out the festive stylings of the Capital.
3 comments:
I still think it's hysterical that you taught Oliver to say "tits up"! We would never do that here in the states! LOL We're such prudes!
My husband did get his two yr old niece in trouble when we were in college, by paying her a quarter to tell her mommy to "chill out" the next time she yelled!
brilliant...hehe, I'm sure Oliver's mother won't be quite as pleased but 'tit's up' isn't as bad s what some folk teach their kids...He's still to young to really understand, he never really said it properly it was more like 'tiss pup' but it amused me :D
Party rings? I think I'm going to need an English/American translation on that one ;)
Oh, sure, Christmas in the time of Dickens *sounds* lovely... Until you realize that you'd have been suffering from consumption, peeing in a pot, and surrounded by people who hadn't had a proper bath since September. Of course, they also didn't have parking lot stalkers, who follow you in their cars so that they can take your parking spot, or the women in the malls who'd gladly run over you with their baby stroller in order to grab the last Snuggie off the shelf. So...I guess it's a wash :)
Sounds like you had a great time with your friends, though I'm not sure that their wives will be asking you to babysit anytime soon. At least not after they start getting phone calls from nursery school informing them of Oliver's "colorful" language ;D
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