So here’s why I was late for work Tuesday. I was photographing the goldfish. My 7 year-old son rushed into the kitchen to tell me that those morons on the BBC’s kids’ channel want everyone to send in photographs of their pets. Since the only pet we own is a goldfish (Fishy, or ‘Fishy Malishy Golden Treasure Nemo’ to give him his full name) I spent the next fifteen minutes trying to persuade Fishy to come round the front of the bowl so I could take his picture, thus missing my train. Anyway, this is the best I could do.
Later that day, and to round out this picture of suburban weirdness, I went to be a helper at the same son’s Beavers troop (Beavers are the bit of the Scout Movement that comes before the Cubs, since you’re asking, although we really don’t know why called them Beavers. Why not Badgers? That’s a much better name). Anyway, what we wound up doing, in that cold scout hut Tuesday night, was improvising a sort of riotous relay race (involving a lot of those square carpet samples) because the vicar failed to show up to give a talk.
I’m not sure why I’m telling you this. Perhaps I want you to think of me as a sort of homely guy who’s got his priorities right or perhaps I’m looking for sympathy. Anyway, the vicar did show up in the end, only it was too late for him to give his talk so he cleverly seized the opportunity to discuss forgiveness with the boys, all of whom said they really did forgive him for being so late, except my son, who said ‘no’ quite loudly when asked. Afterwards the boys wrote letters to some Dutch Beavers because, we’re told, they all speak perfect English…
Know the feeling. The other day, just as our leaving the house routine was reaching fever pitch (‘You put your shoes on and you put them on NOW or I’ll throw you down the stairs.’ My next door neighbour came round the other day to tell me that when I shout at my kids, hers burst into tears. Mortified, I died on the spot. But I digress.), my daughter rushed up to me with a pencil and a piece of paper telling me that she had to take a cartoon into school that day and I had to draw Dennis the Menace before we left the house. Amid much huffing and puffing and telling her that she really should be drawing it herself and that she better colour it in QUICKLY, I drew an approximation of Dennis. She coloured it and took it away. I didn’t miss my train though, as I don’t do trains any more.
Steve, I know you are a big fan of Homer Simpson. Have you actually become him?
Beavers…very unfortunate. It reminds me of that great line in Airplane? Police Squad? ONe of those films.
Priscilla Presley in a bookshop or library on one of those moving ladder things (with a stuffed beaver high up on a shelf somewhere just in shot)and Leslie Neilsen says as he looks up at her (skirt):
Hm..nice beaver!
and Priscilla replies:
Thank you! I had it stuffed last Thursday.