My mum lives in Cyprus; suffice to say I don’t get to see her that often. A week ago she came home for Christmas and since then I have been spending as much time as possible with her. We went to lunch today with some of my friends (a tradition we have for whenever she is in the country) and afterwards went to the supermarket. That’s how all good stories start, isn’t it “that time I went to the supermarket with my mom…” Well, that’s how MY story starts, so deal with it.
Anyway, so we’re at the supermarket with my friend (yes, I take my friends grocery shopping with me, I’m that cool) and we proceed to the check out line. We’re standing there, waiting for the slowest woman on earth to ring up our 15 items and for some reason we start talking about clothes. I complimented my friend on her top- because it was a really nice top- and then my mother took all credit for MY top as it used to be hers. I feel the need here to say that she GAVE that top to me. Following that, however, she accuses me of theft of another shirt. The following exchange occurred:
Me: “Mummy, I did not steal that top. It was an accident.’
My mum: “You looked me in the face and I asked did you just pack my top and you said yes.”
Me: “Exactly, ACCIDENTALLY”
-short pause-
My mum: “…YOUR FACE WAS AN ACCIDENT!”
I have never been so shocked. I have also never laughed so hard that I almost wet myself in a supermarket. And I have never been so proud to call my mother my mother. Suffice to say my previously mentioned friend now thinks I have the coolest mum on earth, and after a retort like that I can’t help but agree.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
How NOT to hit on a girl
The lengths I go to for my causes. I am co-organizing a school Christmas event for this Saturday and am trying to advertise and raise attendance to our little shindig. I saw two young boys after school and approached them to sell tickets. This is how the conversation went:
Me: “Hey, what are you boys up to this Saturday?”
Boy 1: “What?” and he started to walk uncomfortably close to me
Me: “Saturday”
Boy 1: “Oh, not now?” stops
Boy 2: “Oh that Christmas thing?”
Me: “Yeah, that Christmas thing. Are you guys gonna come?”
Boy 2: “Yeah, maybe. How much does it cost?”
Me: “$20. All the money goes to charity.”
Boy 2: “Oh, alright. How much does it cost at the door?”
Me: “$20.”
Boy 1: “Do you have change for $100.”
Me: “Not on me, sorry.”
I know, I know, at this point in the recollection of this conversation you are probably thinking to yourselves ‘The only thing remarkable about this conversation is her lack of sales abilities.’ Wait for it, this is where things got weird:
Me: “Ok, well thanks guys. Hopefully I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Boy 1: “You know you real bess.” (bess is a colloquialism for hot, or attractive.)
Me: “Thank you” at which point I uncomfortably tried to walk away. But he stopped me.
Boy 1: “Wait, show him your tattoo nah.” So I did, I don’t know why, but I showed boy 2 my tattoo. Before you get any ideas, it is behind my left ear not any place suggestive or anything you perverts.
Boy 2: “That real cool.”
Me: “Thanks.” This was now my second attempt to walk away.
Boy 2: “You know, when I grow up I want to get a tattoo. It’ll be a star… inside a football… that’s on fire!”
Me: “I have a feeling you might change your mind.”
Boy 1: “Well, when I grow up I’m going to get a tattoo. Of you. On my butt.”
Boy 2: “Well when I grow up I’m going to get a tattoo of you on my-” judging from the way his lips were moving I guessed what he was about to say and used this moment to finally make my escape.
I replayed the scene in my head about 10 times as I walked away, more and more disturbed each time. If these boys honestly thought that would be effective flattery they may be lonely for a very long time. On the plus side, I am now fairly positive that they will be among the attendants for our Christmas event on Saturday. I hope it goes well, so I didn’t suffer through this for nothing.
Me: “Hey, what are you boys up to this Saturday?”
Boy 1: “What?” and he started to walk uncomfortably close to me
Me: “Saturday”
Boy 1: “Oh, not now?” stops
Boy 2: “Oh that Christmas thing?”
Me: “Yeah, that Christmas thing. Are you guys gonna come?”
Boy 2: “Yeah, maybe. How much does it cost?”
Me: “$20. All the money goes to charity.”
Boy 2: “Oh, alright. How much does it cost at the door?”
Me: “$20.”
Boy 1: “Do you have change for $100.”
Me: “Not on me, sorry.”
I know, I know, at this point in the recollection of this conversation you are probably thinking to yourselves ‘The only thing remarkable about this conversation is her lack of sales abilities.’ Wait for it, this is where things got weird:
Me: “Ok, well thanks guys. Hopefully I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Boy 1: “You know you real bess.” (bess is a colloquialism for hot, or attractive.)
Me: “Thank you” at which point I uncomfortably tried to walk away. But he stopped me.
Boy 1: “Wait, show him your tattoo nah.” So I did, I don’t know why, but I showed boy 2 my tattoo. Before you get any ideas, it is behind my left ear not any place suggestive or anything you perverts.
Boy 2: “That real cool.”
Me: “Thanks.” This was now my second attempt to walk away.
Boy 2: “You know, when I grow up I want to get a tattoo. It’ll be a star… inside a football… that’s on fire!”
Me: “I have a feeling you might change your mind.”
Boy 1: “Well, when I grow up I’m going to get a tattoo. Of you. On my butt.”
Boy 2: “Well when I grow up I’m going to get a tattoo of you on my-” judging from the way his lips were moving I guessed what he was about to say and used this moment to finally make my escape.
I replayed the scene in my head about 10 times as I walked away, more and more disturbed each time. If these boys honestly thought that would be effective flattery they may be lonely for a very long time. On the plus side, I am now fairly positive that they will be among the attendants for our Christmas event on Saturday. I hope it goes well, so I didn’t suffer through this for nothing.
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