Thursday, 29 December 2011

Playing Games

You wouldn't think that a small person who is still three months short of her second birthday would be able to master the swanee whistle, would you? All that blowing and sliding the slider up and down in a manner that is co-ordinated enough to produce a decent sound. Yet Kayleigh has learned, and can now wander about the house making noises like a deranged Clanger.

We thought, let's try the child, who is clearly a musical genius, with something a little more challenging. Like a kazoo. Which is also more annoying, as we soon discovered when she managed to get the hang of that too, albeit in short and loud bursts. Stylophone next, I think. (She's had a couple of goes on my piano keyboard, but this generally involves using her bottom to play it, which is good neither for my nerves nor the instrument, so a return to the piano keyboard may be postponed for a few more months yet.)

On Christmas Day, the combined ages of the adults at the Manor was 181, giving an average age of 30.1666 recurring. Whilst one of us, (me!) is more than half that average again and clearly, therefore, was the most mature to deal with co-ordinating a bloomin' good Christmas dinner though I do say so myself, the rest of the 'adults' (and I use that term in the loosest possible sense), ran amok with various toy weaponry and a flying monkey that made a heck of screeching noise every time it flew through the air. They also played a variety of ridiculous games with 'suitable for ages 8 - 12 years' stamped on the boxes, and generally got very silly - silliness that resulted in at least one banged head and a stamped-upon foot.

On more than one occasion, Kayleigh looked at me as if to say, 'What on EARTH are they doing, Gran?'

That said, it was the funniest Christmas Day I've ever enjoyed! More of that, say I!

Today I went and had a haircut. I had a haircut a couple of weeks ago, and I was stupidly seduced into a bob. This isn't the first time this has happened, so really I shouldn't forget that when I am at home and have neither the time nor the inclination to blow dry a bob properly, I end up looking like a deranged spaniel. Well, usually, when this happens, I play the waiting game of six weeks or so until my next appointment and then I have myself debobbed until the next time I think,' Hmmm, a bob looks like a nice hair-do.' But this time, for some bizarre reason, I couldn't bear the wait. I went back today.
I said, 'Please debob me, and if I show any signs of heading bob-wards again, show me a picture of 'Country Life' magazine and bark a couple of times.'
'Okay,' they said.
I emerged from the hairdresser a few quid lighter and feeling ten years younger.

In the local news, a woman is in hospital following a road accident. Oh dear, I hear you say. But wait, let me fill you in on the details. The woman was 60. And a granny. She was a passenger on a quad bike.


Now, I'm all for saying you are never too old to try new experiences, but in this case I make an exception. SIXTY??? ON A QUAD BIKE????? You can imagine the scene - parent gives their child a quad bike for Christmas which in itself shows a certain lunacy. Granny says, 'I wish I was young enough to have a go on that - it looks fun.' Her son (parent of the child) says, 'Come on, Mum. Hop on behind me, and I'll take you for a spin,' and so she hops on, he revs up because he is approaching middle age and wants to show off a bit, and off they roar, leaving little Jimmy standing in their wake thinking, 'I wish they'd got me Lego instead.'

They collided with a Ford Fiesta, which suggests that one of these vehicles was travelling in the wrong place.

Trouble is, this kind of accident happens nearly every year in Kent, Lord knows why. Well, I do know why, but I don't like to say because I don't want to be seen as being er...disresepctful to certain members of the community, but all I can say is, A SIXTY YEAR OLD GRANNY ON A QUAD BIKE????

So there we go. Age knows no barriers - no swanee whistles, kazoos, Christmas malarkey and bobs.

And no quad bikes, apparently.

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