Maybe you’ re wondering if I’m still alive? Maybe you’re not. If not, why not? Come on, folks, I hope at least one person has missed little ‘ol Mrs T! Now just to prove I’m alive (even if only to myself) I am going to wriggle my toes.
Okay they’re all wriggling. Apart from the one I broke. Yes, I’ve broken another toe. Thanks to a combination of Master Benedict’s strategically placed trainers and a heavy glass pot. It was a painful experience indeed which, as you might expect, resulted in some profuse swearing but also the creation of some new art on the hall wall where the soles of Master Ben’s shoes impacted. You see -I have a talent for creativity – even under the most arduous of circumstances.
You know, folks, not one of the males in the household came to my assistance when I screamed out as my toe was brutally pulverised. How shocking is that? The guilty party, Master Benedict, did later remark that he had heard me cry out in pain but hadn’t felt the need to check if I was still alive. Comforting. Let’s just hope I don’t have a heart attack one day. Mr T who had gone to bed early (alcohol induced) slept through it and when I queried Master Jacob he gave me a look of blank incomprehension which is the expression most teenagers give after wearing their Xbox headset for three days. By the way, I also sent Young Sam, who is away at university, a telepathic message of distress but strangely enough I didn’t hear from him either – in fact I’m still waiting for him to reply to my text message from New Year 2011.
Still, it’s not all bad news regarding Young Sam; I have actually seen him this year. I didn’t recognise him – but that’s another story. He’s just started an MA in philosophy and is sharing a flat with another philosophy MA student and a young German lad studying for a PHD in the philosophy of maths. Whatever the hell that is. I expect it could lead to some really dull and mind-numbing exciting and mentally challenging conversations. You know, a German studying philosophy kinda gets me worried. No reason. Just call me… cautious. Anyway, last Saturday I went to see Young Sam to drop off his Mastermind Chair and as I entered the lounge I found the other MA student polishing the coffee table. A mixture of emotions (surprise followed by a glowing pride that the lad would do such a thing to impress me) overcame me so that I blurted out;
Oh, no need to do that on my account!
At which point the lad looked up and said:
I’m cleaning the table because Colin is coming home later.
Colin is the German PHD student. So in another words, my son and his flatmate have more respect (or possibly fear) of their German flat mate than they do of me.
I am obviously failing in my duties. This is not something I have encountered before. I shall have to raise the stakes.
Anyway, I turned around and stamped down the stairs with Young Sam beside me shouting Schnell, schnell to his flatmate. I then drove off with the cash still in my wallet I had planned to give Master Sam.
Okay, I didn’t drive off with the cash. I went to the cash point to get it across the road and it was one of those ones that charge you for the transaction.
That’s all the excuse I needed, folks. The cash stayed in the cash point.
Anyway, I’m back. I’m alive and I am looking forward to meeting Herr Colin in the near future. I may have some more stories to tell.
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| This is very similar to Young Sam’s Mastermind chair. I imagine it is where he will sit when he and his philosophy flatmates are discussing world affairs. I just hope Master Sam doesn’t go into the civil service. |
