Yesterday evening, young Miss Bassett and I whiled away some time watching videos of her and her brother. They range from 12 to 15 years ago and it's the first time either of us have seen them since then (although as she's now still only 17, she doesn't remember a lot about them).
Sadly, I am not able to disclose some of the more embarrassing contents as she has threatened me with all sorts of unmentionable things but the sight of her at 2 was lovely to see once more. Young Master B at his school Christmas Extravaganza, her at her first Nativity, an Easter Egg Hunt around the house, silly moments of no import but totally precious to me: it was all pretty good stuff until I stepped out from behind the camera and got caught myself!
The moustache was dark - sort of Tom Selleck in his Magnum days. The hair was still showing traces of brown and the body was similar to now (but ironed).
The lovely thing about kids is that they don't mind a videocam being shoved in their face. None of the long-suffering looks of the adults (unless they are ancient whereupon they seem to go completely stupid and think they've become a combination of John Travolta and Billy Connolly). "Sing Baa Baa. Black Sheep", "Do your dancing for Daddy", "Wave" - Oh, if only they were so obedient these days!
Kids are great insofar as they have few inhibitions (hence the embargo on me mentioning certain footage).
Talking of kids and inhibitions, I had another of my 'senior moments' this evening. I was doing the fun trip to Scummerfield and wandering around the shelves searching desperately for tagliatelle. As I'm reading the labels of the few packets of pasta, nestling between the vast numbers of Easter Eggs, I was mentally checking them off and realising just how nice they all sounded if you use an Italian accent.Rigatoni, penne, conchigli, farfalle, fettucini.............I was really rolling the names around my tongue and thoroughly enjoying the resultant sounds when I realised I was actually saying all of this out loud. Gazing round sheepishly and very grateful of no audience, I carried on the Italian theme and retreated hastily.
As I queued at the checkout, I was aware of 2 teenage girls in front of me buying baby food. They were loud, they were showing off to the young lad behind the till and, worst of all, they committed the cardinal sin. Now let me say at this point, we all have things that annoy us and me, in all probability, more than most. I will no doubt blog that subject at some point but the culpable act for which they were accused, indicted and (ideally) shot was that most reprehensible of store crimes - they failed to put a separator down on the conveyor belt after their goods! Aaaargh, that makes me soooooooooo cross!!!. I reached across them and smashed it down on the belt (narrowly missing my Belgian buns) whilst glaring at them. They of course blithely ignored me.
They were of a particular type of young girl. Fortunately, their evolutionary process had been less than others and therefore they still had rather long, simian-like arms. This was handy to make room for the tattoo on one of these charmers which went something like 'I love Craig (crossed out), Darren (crossed out), Lee (crossed out), Jason (crossed out), Wayne (crossed out), Dwayne'.
The other one was more succinct and just had a Visa logo.
Anyway, they left, I packed my bags and headed for the Exit only for them to reappear once more ahead of me. This is where things went wrong.
One said in a loud voice "Woss she got that I haven't?" and I thought 'brains, style and sophistication at a rough guess'. I had no idea of whom they were talking but it seemed a fair bet. It was when they suddenly went quiet and slowed down that I realised I had done it again - I'd been thinking out loud once more!
What do I do? Stop going out? Wear a gag? Go the whole hog and start dribbling and wetting myself?
I'm getting old. The brain cell is deteriorating and there's nothing I can do about it. For all I know, I'm not typing this: I'm sitting in a corner mumbling it to myself whilst pulling wings off butterflies.
Perhaps the days of the Tom Selleck moustache weren't so bad after all?
Sadly, I am not able to disclose some of the more embarrassing contents as she has threatened me with all sorts of unmentionable things but the sight of her at 2 was lovely to see once more. Young Master B at his school Christmas Extravaganza, her at her first Nativity, an Easter Egg Hunt around the house, silly moments of no import but totally precious to me: it was all pretty good stuff until I stepped out from behind the camera and got caught myself!
The moustache was dark - sort of Tom Selleck in his Magnum days. The hair was still showing traces of brown and the body was similar to now (but ironed).
The lovely thing about kids is that they don't mind a videocam being shoved in their face. None of the long-suffering looks of the adults (unless they are ancient whereupon they seem to go completely stupid and think they've become a combination of John Travolta and Billy Connolly). "Sing Baa Baa. Black Sheep", "Do your dancing for Daddy", "Wave" - Oh, if only they were so obedient these days!
Kids are great insofar as they have few inhibitions (hence the embargo on me mentioning certain footage).
Talking of kids and inhibitions, I had another of my 'senior moments' this evening. I was doing the fun trip to Scummerfield and wandering around the shelves searching desperately for tagliatelle. As I'm reading the labels of the few packets of pasta, nestling between the vast numbers of Easter Eggs, I was mentally checking them off and realising just how nice they all sounded if you use an Italian accent.Rigatoni, penne, conchigli, farfalle, fettucini.............I was really rolling the names around my tongue and thoroughly enjoying the resultant sounds when I realised I was actually saying all of this out loud. Gazing round sheepishly and very grateful of no audience, I carried on the Italian theme and retreated hastily.
As I queued at the checkout, I was aware of 2 teenage girls in front of me buying baby food. They were loud, they were showing off to the young lad behind the till and, worst of all, they committed the cardinal sin. Now let me say at this point, we all have things that annoy us and me, in all probability, more than most. I will no doubt blog that subject at some point but the culpable act for which they were accused, indicted and (ideally) shot was that most reprehensible of store crimes - they failed to put a separator down on the conveyor belt after their goods! Aaaargh, that makes me soooooooooo cross!!!. I reached across them and smashed it down on the belt (narrowly missing my Belgian buns) whilst glaring at them. They of course blithely ignored me.They were of a particular type of young girl. Fortunately, their evolutionary process had been less than others and therefore they still had rather long, simian-like arms. This was handy to make room for the tattoo on one of these charmers which went something like 'I love Craig (crossed out), Darren (crossed out), Lee (crossed out), Jason (crossed out), Wayne (crossed out), Dwayne'.
The other one was more succinct and just had a Visa logo.
Anyway, they left, I packed my bags and headed for the Exit only for them to reappear once more ahead of me. This is where things went wrong.
One said in a loud voice "Woss she got that I haven't?" and I thought 'brains, style and sophistication at a rough guess'. I had no idea of whom they were talking but it seemed a fair bet. It was when they suddenly went quiet and slowed down that I realised I had done it again - I'd been thinking out loud once more!
What do I do? Stop going out? Wear a gag? Go the whole hog and start dribbling and wetting myself?
I'm getting old. The brain cell is deteriorating and there's nothing I can do about it. For all I know, I'm not typing this: I'm sitting in a corner mumbling it to myself whilst pulling wings off butterflies.
Perhaps the days of the Tom Selleck moustache weren't so bad after all?
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3 comments:
I do that all the time (talk out loud to myself) ... I thought it was normal :-O
Love the chavvy picture - my neighbour's daughter wears clothes just like that :-D
Take care. :-)
Many a time I have suffered that same exact poor etiquette, while waiting at the till. I now just merge my lot with their lot and just let them try and sort it out...if they want to pay for my stuff, so be it.
LOL....Bertie you do manage to bring home my own thoughts in a very succinct and humerous way. Wish I could do it!
Good read.
Bob
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