NeeeeNooooor....Neeeee...Nooooor

Taking a car journey with the smashers is always an adventure, it's never dull, there's always stuff to see and hear for the first time, it's their way I'm guessing, of normalising something that might otherwise be traumatic in the scary and unfamiliar sense. Maybe I'm over analysing things, maybe they adopt this sense of adventure to stop them simply being bored, dunno, but one thing that is true is that they must have a kind of routine, the familiar things are pointed out, every time, Look a Sheep! a Cow...what noise do sheep make?...Baaaah...what noise do cows make?...Mooo...Look a fire engine/police car/ambulance...Neeee-Nooorr Neee-Nooooor..and Tunnel..!!!...wheeeee---oooooh....
I tell ya, I was walking down the road to work this morning and two fire engines flew by, sirens wailing and in my head I'm like Neeeee.Noooorr and I thought about how fleeting all this is, not for the first time I have to admit, and how one day soon, all this will be gone. When we're out driving, cows, sheep, police cars and tunnels will all pass us by without a word from any of us; we'll all be staring into our own space.

Daddy my daddy!!

Blimey, life eh?..it sometimes throws you doesn’t it? One minute your getting on with it, wishing it was the weekend again the next your sister forwards you an email from a long lost step-daddy we haven’t seen in, what, almost 30 years! He found my sister via one of these re-united sites and he simply emailed “Hi, remember me, I used to be married to your mum in the 70’s”

I mean, for gods sake! Talk about long lost bloody father all chocked up with emotion or what!!

We emailed him back, "Hello yes, we used to be your step-children from the 70's"

Turns out he moved to Australia back in the late 70’s, made a fortune and is now on deaths door wanting us to go over to see him so that he can bung us in his will or something, Christ I dunno, one minute we’re scraping between the sofa cushions for dough, the next we’re being sent return tickets to Oz. I tell ya, he was more than a father to me that man and I was very upset when he walked off all those years ago. But I forgive him, or I will do once he hands over his lolly.

…

Oh alright, he’s not at deaths door…well, he might be…and he’s not loaded, well, again, who knows…a very cryptic email after all…but the last we heard he really was in Australia and for all we know he still is, so fingers crossed he’s on his last legs with a stash of wad to leave me…I mean us…

It's 1973

I had a few beers last night with my so-called mates…bla bla pub talk…bla bla evi push..bla bla…skiing…holidays..bla bla etc; the usual but a good night.
I was telling the boys about the missus new hobby over the xmas holiday of playing with the quality street wrappers once she’d consumed the chocolate. Bloody annoying listening to her straightening out the foil wrapper before starting on the plastic outer wrapper and then starting on another choc before she has a pile on the floor of perfectly straight and smooth wrappers I then pick up for her and throw onto the fire…Trying to concentrate on the telly while she's in full aborbed mode was tough I tell ya...
I dunno, why I let these things bother me but it was like, the other day, when I’d settled down to watch Life on Mars and she came into the living room with a tin pot full of coins she’d decided to tip onto the floor and count! Why? I said to her, why now, why here in front of the telly, why not later, or tomorrow, or next door or up the fucking stairs!! Alright alright she said, but carried on anyway, only very very quietly, piling up the one pee’s the two pee’s the five pee’s…clinck clinck clinck oh for gods sake I’m gonna watch this upstairs!..alright alright and she threw her toys out of her pram by mowing all her piles over and throwing herself onto the other sofa to sulk…now, where was I?..oh yeah, it’s 1973…hangon, how did that happen?…Christ…

So, where do we go from here?...

I get home from work Friday evening, just in time to wish the missus a good evening as she rushes out the door to start her evening shift at Matlan. We’re both busy people and parents, so that’s fine with me, in fact when she paused at the door and started to yap about something or other, my dinner instructions I think, I was tiring of her company then and there…anyhoo, she’d been shopping that day I’d noticed and like a good obedient wife she’d not bought me any booze, great, nothing in the wine rack! But as I was fishing in the fridge for something to go with my dinner I spy a bottle of wine, cooling nicely and a wee bottle of organic cider!

Wonderful, I thought, could it be that, after all these years, she’s finally beginning to understand me? And I thought of her at Tesco’s that afternoon, in the wine and beer aisle, getting herself her white wine turning to go then checking herself, wait, she’s thinking, hang on a minute, I know he told me not to get him any beer or wine, but he’s a good man, he works hard for us and he deserves a beer on a Friday night for chirst sake, we’re not animals, we’re human beings and my man needs a beer, so damnit it, if I get in trouble for this, then so be it, he’s worth it, my man…
and it’s true, I say one thing, but usually mean another and if I start something it’s usually jumped in with both feet, whereas a more considered approach is better and maybe, just maybe the missus understands me more than I know myself, one wee bottle of cider to ease away the weeks stresses and strains wont kill me for gods sake and it might even keep me away from her wine…Anyway, all that considered, I reach for the cider then neck it and it isn’t long before I’m eyeing up her nice cold wine in the fridge but I think No! don’t do it man, she deserves better than that and think of the cider and how she was thinking of you, don’t ruin it, don’t betray her trust…so I didn’t. I went to bed.

Later that evening, she gets in and I can hear her watching something on tv so I pad down to wish her a good night.

Her: Oi, you drank my fucking cider!

Me: Oh, er, I thought you bought it for me…

Her: I was really looking forward to that, I thought you said not to get you anything, if you wanted a cider why didn’t you ask me to get you one instead of nicking mine!?

Me: sorry, I…erm…goodnight then…

I lope off back to bed cursing myself for actually thinking that she finally was beginning to understand me, ha! What was I thinking?!!…understand me, after all these years! Ha!!..

Blackberry

I met up with some ex-colleagues last night, hadn’t seen some of them for, what, 2 or 3 years…shocking how some people let themselves go. I’m glad I was at the pub first and sat down so that everyone found me, if I had of walked into that pub looking for them, well, I’d’ve walked straight passed them I tell ya. Shocking.

Not a bad night though, had a pizza and a few beers, there goes my unannounced resolution, ah well, it wouldn’t have lasted anyway…meeting so-called mates next week anyway, so will be beering then. Still, it’s not like anyone really keeps their resolutions innit, like emailing special people more often and that…ah well, cheers.

Hey! I took delivery of my blackberry today, nice wee toy to play with, and next week get my business cards. I have arrived. Who wants my blackberry number so they can call me?…anyone…oh

Slept badly on the train on way home tonight, now my neck is giving me some real agro, so I’m off to bed for a massage…on myself. On my bloody pain in the neck. Jesus.

I'm no arse bandid, this was my very first May Ball and that's me on the left with me mate "Griff" before we headed off to the party...sigh...good night I think, mind you, never pulled...wonder why? 

Nap naps

Back to work then and the boss does a sickie all week, which is leaving me a bit stumped for things to do to be honest, I need to be instructed to do something really I’ve decided. For the rest of the week I’m on me todd except for this Italian girl, well, women actually, who wants to get some records management experience…not that she’s getting much to be honest, an excuse it seems to give her all the donkey work, but hey! I didn’t invite her so not my problem…except when she turns to me and says …eh!…e’Stevie…why you looko so down my friend…why you no come ‘elp me wiv my thing…eh?…

Bloody europeans

We’re trying to get the smasher out of his nappies at the moment, a lot harder work than the other one…today I get back from work and the missus is in a manic state because he’d only just done a poo then rolled his trucks over it creating tire treads of poo for her to follow with the detol and rag…but we mustn’t give up, we can’t go back to putting him in nappies, I tell her, as I step over her on the way to the kitchen to see if my dinner is ready…which is, guess what, NOT…but it takes her a trice to knock me up a nice omelette…decided to start a mini low impact diet, no exercise as such of course, too old for that nonsense now and look all the bloody good it did me last year!…no, I thought, healthy eating really ought to be enough to knock off the odd pound or two, but you know what, all that ground in poo and detol smell really did nothing for the appetite, so I left it, now if only he would do that every night, I’d loose stones, yeah?