"Mum, I need to see a psychiatrist," says Deborah, who has definitely been watching too much tv this half term.
"Why?"
"Because I'm too scared to go upstairs. It's not normal. I think it's a neurosis. And, in any case, there's monsters in the wardrobes."
I sigh - a parent's theatrical 'How many times do I have to tell you?' sigh. Deborah sighs back, only better and more theatrically.
"If you want me to take you to the adventure playground with a friend, you have to go upstairs and tidy your room."
There's a pause while Deborah tries to work out whether it would be worthwhile seizing the phone, locking herself in the loo and calling a friend anyway, and I try to work out what I'll do if she does.
Very fortunately, the phone rings, sparing us the necessity of finding out.
"God, I'm bored," says Vicky. "Even wine's losing its appeal. I got so fed up I even tried experimenting with the bog cleaners to see if I could get them to explode, the way it says they do on the labels if you mix them up."
"And did it work?"
"Did it, f***."
"So what have you got arranged for the rest of the day?"
"I'm so bored I've booked myself in for a fairly drastic bikini wax. It's all very well sorting out your top hair but there's no point leaving it like that. What with ageing and having children, everything's running wild - or falling out. I looked down this morning and for a second I could swear there was a horrible old man with a tangly beard and pursed lips staring straight back."
It's just dawned on me that the phone's on loudspeaker and Deborah is listening, open-mouthed.
"Mum," she says. "Why has Vicky got an old man looking at her in the bathroom."
"I - She -." For once, I'm at a loss.
"At least my monsters are imaginary," she says. "But Vicky. She needs a psychiatrist. Definitely."
And shaking her head thoughtfully, she sets off up the stairs.
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18 comments:
Speaker phones are the work of the devil. So funny, OM, thanks for sharing (I think).
Potty Mummy: My life is yours. Warts (though poss only the ordinary ones) and all.
Speaker phones and video phones - both a disaster. How old is Deborah? She has a great career in front of her.
elizabethm: She's seven but gets all her precocity by memorising lines from US children's programmes
At least you got her to go upstairs!! Did she tidy her room?
Casdok: Ha! And thrice ha! As if.
That reminds me of when my child asked me what sperm was. After careful explanation and much sweating and worrying, I explained the entire reproductive system to a 7 year old and did my best to keep it in the context of love etc.
Then I asked him why he wanted to know (worried he'd learned something at school a bit young).
"It says in this book that this is a sperm whale. Just wanted to know what one is." (He already knew what a whale was so only asked the 'sperm' bit).
He's 18 now. Still laughs. I still blush.
Crazycath: I bet he knew all along, really. Mine would.
Has Deborah met Sasha? I'm just wondering where the neurosis might stem from...lots of possible culprits, come to think of it!
Has Francis taken you in the fish wagon yet? It does sound ultra-glam.
Mya x
Mya: Sometimes I wonder if my life is, in fact, conducted entirely in my subconscious while my conscious self pursues an undemanding life elsewhere. In which case, Deborah might well be Sasha.
And no, Francis has not taken me, in any sense, in his glamorous fish wagon. I am not, perhaps, catch of the day.
Eee! Men with beards always have something to hide, that's what my mum told me when I was little.
Crystal xx
What a classic moment! Thanks for the laugh.
i don't know how you do it... wow!
Is Deborah really only seven years old? She is a very smart little girl! Now, who did she get that from, I wonder? I couldn't be because she is hanging around with you too much, could it?
And I can't believe that you were lost for words. That is so unlike you. You normally have a quick come back for every occasion, but sometimes little kids will leave you gasping for air. Of course, they're not the only ones.
Vicky is really bad, isn't she? Whenever I think she has run out of colorful language, she comes up with more. It is almost as though she is your alter ego. What do you think?
When it comes to verbal sparring, I am out of my depth. I usually do okay on paper, but I am left stuttering, looking for the right expression many times. Then I don't know which language to say it in and just toss my arms in the air and say, "Oh, hell." It's the same in both languages.
CJ: Well, possibly not this particular man....But generally speaking, I'm sure your Mum was right.
Expatkat: glad you enjoyed it.
Snuffles: I don't do it, unfortunately - I just write about it instead. Something about priorities and order..
Sweet I: I think friends can be your alter egos - especially if they say the things you don't dare to. So, yes, I think you're right.
Wonderful!
Dumdad: I was aiming for Parisian chic but got horribly lost on the way.
Soooo funny! Just got Chopper to read this one and I think you have a new fan! He loved the 2nd to last line....some day he may even write his own comment. Honest, he is not a figment of my imagination!
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