Rudely woken up by Goldie donkey-kicking me in the morning glory.
It’s a day for making plans. Lisa’s given up on the Dukan diet and got a new one-
“I wont eat anything after 8pm” she tells us. “And I’ve got an idea. It’s like Indecent Proposal. But it’s about houses.”
“Well, it’s not like Indecent Proposal…I want to offer Florence and Aiden a houseswap.”
“Yeah, they can have my crappy house and I’ll have their lovely flat.”
Esther and Lisa are going misty eyed about afternoon snoozes that lasted forever and didn’t cause an evening of self-recrimination.
“Oh, the golden days when we used to turn on Murder, She Wrote and settle down for a snooze. There’d be a whole uninterrupted hour with no adverts to wake us up…”
“But then CBBC would come on!” interjects Lisa, her reverie clouded over with trauma.
“Oh God!” says Esther, her eyes wide, before making a series of loud farting and screeching noises.
After a moment, I realize that she’s imitating the sounds of CBBC.
They shudder involuntarily.
Lisa: “I was watching a video by that Men-ag-é woman [Nicki Minaj]. She sings a bit, then there’s a bit that goes “d-d-duh d-d-duh” and makes you feel really dark inside.”
Apparently everyone has a good side. But that means…
“Have I got a bad side, darling?”
What’s that supposed to mean?!
“Where’s the book I’m reading?” I ask vaguely, hunting in the piles of stuff littering my side of the bed.
“Don’t know” says Esther, eyes glued to the TV.
After another ten minutes of my rustling in the undergrowth, she tuts and hands it to me.
“How come you’ve got it?!” I demand.
“Dunno,” says shrugs, but I’m not buying it.
“Go on tell me…”
“Erm,” she bats her eyelids, “I’m fed up of you ignoring me and just reading your bloody books. So when you’re not looking, I shove them down the back of the bed…”
“You little tike!” I shout, before burying my head in the book.
Esther glares, but I’m gone, deep into word-land. I resolve to push the bed flush to the wall next time she goes downstairs.
At work, I overhear a tragicomic careers interview between an annoyingly posh adviser and a common-as-muck student.
“Have you applied for any jobs recently?”
“Err, well a bit like”
“Oh, and did you get any useful feedback?”
“Only from like KFC…”
“Oh. (Pause). Ok, and what did they say?”
“Just that like, us application was unsuccessful coz us wont what they were lookin’ for.”
Oh indeed. There really is nothing to say if you are rejected by KFC.
Me: “How did you get on with your 8pm diet?”
Lisa: “Well it turned into an 8.30pm diet coz Dom didn’t get back till 7.55pm and I was like, “Right that’s it, I can’t eat tea.” But he said “No I’ll put it in now…Make it a half eight diet…” and then I thought ‘I’ve got a cornetto left; I’ll start the diet tomorrow’.”
Esther heard someone smashing a TV that had been left on the pavement, and spied a builder wielding a sledgehammer against the back of the monitor, then reaching in and yanking out the brain (cathode ray) and spinal cord (transformer). He held them aloft like a trophy, then shoved then in a bin and walked off.
“I wonder if he leaps out of his van whenever he sees a TV and dishes out his vigilante justice…?” she muses.
I think ‘There should be a reality TV series called From Ladettes to Luddites’. But I don’t say it coz it’s not funny. (It’s punny).
“I had a dream about those men with bulls, what are they called…maskadors?”
Titter. “No, Lisa, matadors.”
“Oh yeah. And then I killed your pregnant girlfriend” she sings to Dom.
“What?!” he sputters.
“In my dream. Sorry.”
He scans the room. “You people are fucking weird!”
“I did tell you in the middle of the night…but you were asleep. Will you do some digging in the garden with me?”
“I’ve got to practice.”
“You could pretend you’re burying my body?”
He perks up.
“Nah, I’d cremate ya.” He says, “feed you to the pigs…”
“I wish I was gay,” says Esther, non sequitur-esque. “Then maybe I’d be taken seriously like a man. And I wouldn’t have to change my sexuality.”
“I wish I was a woman,” says Lisa.