Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Light the blue touchpaper and retire, with grace

I am not the most observant of persons when I am busy. Quite often I am very busy when my children are at school, and quite often when they come home too, come to think of it. Nevertheless I notice a new development. I would be difficult not to notice. As I busy about, playing catch up, Nonna offers her assistance. Her assistance takes the form of presenting me with a wide variety of items that she has selected from the great choice available on the carpet and on various pieces of furniture.
“Wot shall we do wiv dis den?” she asks waving a palmful of sawdust, tracked in from the pen by Thatcher the dog.
“Er……..” I pause mid potato peel as I have yet to vacuum, “just pop it in the bin…..over there.”

I wait until the coast is clear to mop the filthy kitchen floor when Nonna peers cautiously around the door jam. “Wot shall we do wiv dis den?” I blink through blotchy bifocals, "um......is that your hanky or someone else's?" I lie and prompt. "Ooo.....is dat mine?"
"I think it is. Pass it over, I'll put it in the bucket so you don't break your neck."
"Break my wot?"
"Er.....slippy floor," I bellow. Her hands fluffy as she beetles off to safety.

As I bend over the toilet with the recently found plunger, she appears again. “Wot we do wiv dis den?” I pause mid dunk in the very crampt bathroom, brush my hair back from my face, “er……well he’s chewed it now……you might as well give it back to him so he doesn’t chew something else.”
“Oh alright…….do you know?”
“Know what?”
“You ave toilet paper and poo on your face?”

I dash down from the shower and a redress to bung on the next load of laundry when I skid into Nonna. “Wot we do wiv dis den?” I examine the Christmas tree bauble hook in her hand, “er……….?” I take it and pop it in my pocket as all the decorations have already been stored, in the attic.

I dash back into the house after clearing up doggy vomit where Nonna waits patiently, “Wot we do wiv dis den?” Her hand flaps with a single grey, solid sock, “see……..it is ard!”
“Bucket! Over there…….in the utility room.”

I rush out with the recycling before the lorry comes for the collection and then hurtle back inside where Nonna is poised with a pin prick of something or other, “Wot we do wiv dis den?”
“Wot? You can’t recycle it?”
“Er yes……give it here.”
“Urry…….dah lorry will be ere soon.”

I hover an the back door trying to decide whether to kill myself now or wait? Nonna opens the door, “wot you do dere den?”
“Er……breathing…….thinking…..maybe I’ll do some gardening?”
“Iz too cold, come in wiv your skinny bones.”
I submit and we do the soft shoe shuffle back inside, a clumsy two step.
“Well Maddy……I tink I rest now, ……I am a bit tired from all my work…….but as dey say…….wot is it……I ave to do my bit……..earn my keep!” she emphasizes with just the merest glint of sarcasm.

Bless her cotton socks, just shoot me now, wicked woman that I am.


Tanya @ Teenautism said...

Sweet that she wants to "earn her keep" - even though her help creates more work for you! :)

Kaber said...

I always love reading yoour stories of your day!

Chris H said...

I admire your patience ~!!!! I would have told her what to do with it.... but maybe not so nicely! lol;
It reminds me of when a two year old constantly says "what's dat?".... would drive me nuts!
Are you nuts yet?