Wednesday, November 15, 2006
What's the party ?
Phone call this morning. It's old mate, Bob of the Cargo Barriers. [ref: last few posts] Yes, they finally have a price for freight. Total added up to less than the quote from the other dealer at Port Macquarie, so I said "Order it!"
Got off the phone and went "Yay!" in a bit of a Kermit take-off.
Zoe emerged from upstairs and asked "What's the party about?"
'What party?' I ask, and then, with Caitlin in support, break into a rendition of 'Hot, hot, hot' as we samba round the kitchen (what can I say.. when I'm overtired, I get a touch manic...) till Cait yelps . "Ouch.... I flicked myself in the eye with my ponytail!"
No sympathy, just mirth, from her mother, who isn't into the whole long hair thing.
Zoe is still bemused, so I explain the saga of the Bobs and the Cargo Barrier quote.
Caitlin then relates having done the same thing with her ponytail while playing netball yesterday afternoon. More shaking of head and smirking from mum. Like 'ha, ha, well, you do insist on having long hair...' kind of Unsympathy.
So she says "Can I get my hair cut?"
I stagger back, clutching my heart... because I've experienced much fallout in the past when I've dragged her in to get her hair trimmed. This is great material for a mother to work with. I get the rolled eyes at my poor acting... and then:
"Still a ponytail Mum... not a bob."
*boom, tish*
I am easily amused some days. Until Zoe informs me my face is going all red from laughing.
Got off the phone and went "Yay!" in a bit of a Kermit take-off.
Zoe emerged from upstairs and asked "What's the party about?"
'What party?' I ask, and then, with Caitlin in support, break into a rendition of 'Hot, hot, hot' as we samba round the kitchen (what can I say.. when I'm overtired, I get a touch manic...) till Cait yelps . "Ouch.... I flicked myself in the eye with my ponytail!"
No sympathy, just mirth, from her mother, who isn't into the whole long hair thing.
Zoe is still bemused, so I explain the saga of the Bobs and the Cargo Barrier quote.
Caitlin then relates having done the same thing with her ponytail while playing netball yesterday afternoon. More shaking of head and smirking from mum. Like 'ha, ha, well, you do insist on having long hair...' kind of Unsympathy.
So she says "Can I get my hair cut?"
I stagger back, clutching my heart... because I've experienced much fallout in the past when I've dragged her in to get her hair trimmed. This is great material for a mother to work with. I get the rolled eyes at my poor acting... and then:
"Still a ponytail Mum... not a bob."
*boom, tish*
I am easily amused some days. Until Zoe informs me my face is going all red from laughing.
Post a Comment