Recently, somebody called me “eccentric” and I wasn’t entirely sure how to take it. I tried to take it eccentrically by gathering 54 cats and moving into the forest but it turns out the forest doesn’t have WiFi. Fuck that.
I kept the cats though.
It’s not surprising that I sometimes come out with odd things. Like that time at work when my team were engaged in guerilla warfare with someone from other team [remind me to post about this sometime] and I suggested we kidnap his child. Apparently it wasn’t appropriate? Whatever. Would’ve worked and we would’ve got the wheels back for our desk chairs.
But that’s nowhere near as odd as some of the things my nan (grandmother) and mum have said. It’s in my genes.
Also, my nan was apparently a big Mills and Boon (Harlequin) reader. Romance is in my genes too. And my jeans depending on the day. BA BOOM BOOM TSH.
This is my nan, Eve. I’m the fourish-year-old on her lap. Nan raised eight children AND cared for her father until his death in three bedroom house. She never tried pasta or pizza because they were “too weird”. She pronounced Thai ‘thigh’ and flirted with the vicar, Father John.
Nan also came out with some eccentric things sometimes. Such as:
Nan: “You know Enid?”
Nan: “Oh, you do. She used to live near us. Enid.”
Nan: “She worked at the book shop. Always wore a hat.”
Mum: “Oh, yes! Enid. I remember.”
Nan: “Well it doesn’t matter because she’s dead.”
Me: “I’m going vegetarian, Nan.”
Nan: “So what are you going to eat? Chicken?”
[Quiz show comes on TV]
Nan [suddenly and forcefully]: “I can’t do rivers. Or mountains.”
At a funeral.
Son of the deceased: “I hear you and [Deceased] used to go shopping on a Monday?”
Nan: “Yes. But not last Monday. Because she was dead.”
Nan: “We had a man round to look at our bathrooms. I think he might have been ambidextrous.”
Me: “That must come in useful for a tradesman.”
Me: “Well, he can use either hand so he can get into hard-to-reach places and all that.”
Nan: “What are you on about?”
[Insert a few minutes of confused conversation]
Me: “…do you mean he’s bisexual?”
Nan: “Yes. That’s what I said.”
Nan: “I’m going to ask the lady vicar. What’s her name… Father Sheila.”
[In reference to the beeping boxes at road crossings]
Nan: “They must be a great help to deaf people.”
Me: “Nan, I’m getting married!”
Nan: “I hope he’s not one of them.”
We never did figure out what she meant.
[In reference to the chocolate fish in Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream]
Nan: “Are these meant to be cod or what?”
Her best friend: “Eve, do you want anything from the shops?”
Nan: “Are you taking your trolley?”
Best friend: “Yes.”
Nan: “Then I’ll have two carrots and a parsnip.”
Presumably too much to carry by hand.
Nan, reminiscing: “Anna, you won’t remember when I was a little girl…”
Nan, talking on the phone to my mum: “Is Anna in bed?”
Mum: “No. It’s 8pm and she’s 18.”
Nan: “She should be in bed!”
And then there’s my mum. She’s not a bird lady–we were at a wildlife sanctuary. She despises pigeons, irons socks, and dislikes my books because there’s “too much sex and swearing”. I’m hoping to put that review on the cover.
Mum’s come out with some good ones recently.
[While unpacking the online shopping]
Mum: “Oh my god.”
Mum: “I’ve accidentally ordered 5kg of peas.”
Mum, thoughtfully: “Wouldn’t it be horrible to wake up and find you were dead?”
Mum, on the phone six times a day for about six months after getting her first computer: “Anna, is it left click or right click to open the Google?”
(Not me and my mum. Though I did once have a 2004 Ford.)
[When playing Monopoly. Every time. See also playing Monopoly with my husband.]
Mum, huffily: “You can’t buy a green! I’ve got a green.”
Me: “Yes, but you don’t have this one. I’ll buy it and we can trade.”
Mum: “That’s not fair. You’re playing dirty.”
Me: “So you want us all to only buy our favourite colours and just go around the board forever with nobody winning?”
Mum: “Well it would be nicer.”
Mum: “These terrorists are getting very naughty aren’t they?”
Kind of puts the kidnapping comment into perspective, doesn’t it?