Did I REALLY do that?? Gah, you better believe I did...............

I am squirming on my seat at the ridiculousness of what I am about to confess.

Not just one silly miss-hap, more a catalogue  - and not collected over a long time, Oh no this confession concerns a short sharp burst of stupidity! I also do the long-term-collecting-of-idiotic-moments, but they I am pretending to have forgotten.

I'll start with today's little ....erm.... calamity. As normal I took a bus load of boys to school with the plan that once I had dropped them off I would go to the local supermarket as Youngest has given me a shopping list to sort out.

His school is doing fund-raising and they had requested items for their raffle starting with the letter 'O' - go on, I defy you to not suggest orange immediately..................yeah? thought so, me too.

He also is doing a 'shoebox' present for deprived children overseas which he informs me last thing last night that he has to hand it in today - Tuesday. So I park up, check that I have both lists, my wallet and switch off car lights and radio. Shopping this early turns out to be a pleasant experience, I trawl up and down the isles looking for items starting with 'O'

.....Oxo cubes............


.........Olives......................... Olive oil...............feeling pleased now, getting going with this idea.................... Oat cakes.............. I start getting clever and find some Organic Original rice-cakes.................... Oregano herbs..............

I also get into the shopping groove and do the shoebox contents, mittens, scarf, toy cars, crayons and as I go along I am ticking of Youngest's list feeling distinctly organised and pleased with myself. While I am on a roll and while I am here, without children, without himself and with my wallet (I'm getting dizzy now) I do a bit of festive shopping too.  I finally stagger down to the car with bags cutting into my fingers of one hand as I ruffle around in my pocket for my car keys.  Not there, swap hands whilst still walking through the car park, fumble in the other pockets, not there.

Little question marks appear randomly inside my head, usually attached to the thought of...where the hell have I put my keys?


Not too worried (yet) I finally reach the car, put down the shopping with relief, blood rushing back to my fingers, and open my bag.................. erm................ umm.............. not there either. A quick furtive repeated checks with both hands in all my pockets confirms my initial discovery that - no-I-do-not-have-my-keys-on-me.
A tumble of thoughts crash around my head... do I ring Himself?? - no, he's at work and he can't get in the house with out the keys, what have I done with the keys??, how do I get in?? - but if I get in, how do I get home??.

Then. Something catches my eye. My keys. In the car. In the LOCKED car. Dangling from the steering column. Gah.........

I had what can only be compared to a moment of clarity, a moment of revelation. Trying to look calm, I cast my eyes around the car park, hoping that due to the earliness of the hour that I had not been spotted tearing my hair out, looking thoughtful. I super-casually picked up the shopping, and hoping hoping hoping that I had done my usual of NOT LOCKING THE BOOT, I walk round to the back of the car. Still in super-casual mode, I put the shopping back down, popped the latch and joy of joys the boot gracefully opened giving me the way into the car. Be still by singing heart!

Mean while, several cars had pulled up, so Über-super-casually  I put in the shopping, leant through and undid the passenger door, shut the boot, opened passenger door, still calm and looking flustered cool I then opened my door, leapt in and breathed a sigh of relief.

Postscript to this story - I have on various occasions done exactly this. On the day before Youngest was born I had to bend a coat hanger and break into my car so I could get home........ Himself has had to do similar a couple of times after I left the keys in a safely locked car.

 I can see a pattern repeating itself here, good thing I  DIDN'T LOCK THE BOOT!!

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Well, that's confession number one, are you up for another? Oh well, here goes.

This little gaff happened last Friday evening while we were out at our French friend's party. When we arrived,  the house was pumping with loud music and some people had already arrived. We were introduced to a couple and their very attractive daughter. The woman had a French name which both Himself and I heard clearly, but when introduced to her husband and daughter, their names got drowned by the music, so we both smiled, shook hands and nodded. The woman spoke heavily accented English while the husband just stood nodding quietly behind. The daughter very quickly went off with the rest of the teenagers leaving us trying to communicate.

I spoke clearly and simply to the husband, who said very little, preferring to pull on his neck and nod. His wife chatted happily but I had to listen carefully to catch all her words, and again I spoke back clearly.  After about 10 minutes of small talk I asked them how long they were staying and the woman answered....Oh, oh we haz been ere for 20 years... my uzbund he is a farmer non? it ezz verry cold tonight non? Excusez-moi I mus go and fineesh la tarte tatin'

Those little question marks that feature in my life began to fill my head

...20 years?...

a farmer?... 

I turn back to her husband and ask where he is from and he gives me a strange look and replies.....

Ay Lass, I'm from Yorkshire, me farm's oop top of t' moss by t' reservoir.....

Oops heh....