Monday, 30 July 2012

Adults Say the Dumbest Things

I spend a lot of time on this blog chronicling some of the awesome things that “my” children say. And a lot of time chronicling some of the hilarious things that people from church say (especially Joab and Shaun, who have provided so much of the material for this blog, that if I made any money, I would probably have to start paying their rent). But this post is to demonstrate some of the REALLY DUMB things adults have said in the past few weeks, mostly at work, and the responses I’ve thought (but haven’t said).

Parent A: I’m really concerned about my child’s language development.
There is no reason to be concerned that your seven month old is not talking. You might, however, want to be concerned about the fact that he weighs over a quarter of what I do.

Parent B: We took our child home last night, and he was all FLOPPY.
Your six month old was “floppy” when you took them home after 6PM? Your six month old who just sat up?

Parent B: You must feed him up. We want him to be BIG STRONG MAN.
Beefcake. BEEFCAKE!

Parent B: He got tonsillitis. So you must be careful, and do not let him use another child’s dummy again, because he was very sick.
Um, fairly certain tonsillitis isn’t contagious. And if it was, you’d think that another child in the room would have it. And if you want him to only use his own dummy MAYBE YOU SHOULD LABEL IT WITH MORE THAN A WHITEBOARD MARKER.

Parent C: Please rug our daughter up if you have the air-conditioners on. They give her gas.
Is she sitting in front of them, swallowing the air they spit out?

Reliever: Where have all the BRIGHT children gone?
They moved up. Because they weren’t bright (well, brighter than the children still in our room). They were older. And thanks for implying our babies, most of whom are less than a year, are stupid because they aren’t walking and talking. Jerkface.

Monday, 23 July 2012

In which I try to buy drugs

So, I was getting a killer cold. Normally, I just suffer the germs, and if I need to, take a day off. But at the moment I’m way too busy to be sick, so I decided to buy some cold and flu tablets. The real ones, not the fake herbal ones with vitamin c and Echinacea.

Anyway, I went to the chemist, and asked for some. The chemist asked for ID. I looked at her as though she was crazy. I mean, if you’ve read my story about me trying to buy alcohol, you will know that I don’t have any ID. Still, I try my working with children card.

The chemist tries to enter it, and after five minutes comes back and tells me that the system will ONLY allow for driver’s licenses or passports. Nothing else.

I thought that was strange. I mean, seriously.

“We have other cold and flu medicine.”

At this point I was feeling rather desperate, and I didn’t want to go all the way home to get my passport and then come back. I asked if the alternative was herbal or real medicine. It was real medicine. They got it, and showed me. It was indeed real medicine.

“So what’s the difference?” I asked. I mean, why can I buy this one without any trouble, and the other one I have to be able to fly out of the country in order to buy.

“The schedulings different.”

I tried to get her to explain, but she just told me that it meant it was the same, but that it was different. I left with cold and flu tablets, but confused.

But half-way home I realised: the passport number cold and flu are the type you can turn into amphetamines, and the other ones you must not be able to. I guess watching Glee teaches you things!

If only she had just told me!

Monday, 16 July 2012

Robin Hood and Guns

I was over at kids church, and tehy were playing games. I don't play games. I don't play them at life group, I don't play them at kids church. If I had been a kid at kids church, I would not have played games. Because games are terrible.

(Okay, I've played a few okay games. Role playing is fun. And a few other games. But we don't play those games. We play races or rhythm games or other things. I'd rather shoot myself.)

I said this, and the others were all horrified. "You didn't like games?"

"I liked real games. Fun games. Like playing Robin Hood."

This drew only blank looks. Turns out that Megan has never played Robin Hood. Evelyn has never played Robin Hood. Auntie Daisy has never played Robin Hood. None of the musicians had ever played Robin Hood.

I finally turned to Ben, the one child there at that time, and asked him.

"Robin Hood?" I explained it to him. You pretend you're Robin Hood, or someone else in the Merrie Men if there are lots of you. Then you shoot arrows at enemies. It's FUN. FUN I SAY.

"Oh yeah, I think I played that," Ben said. "Only we didn't use bows and arrows. We used guns."

Monday, 9 July 2012

Portarlington Celtic Fest

So, I went and I had a great time. I was slightly distracted by HUNGER GAMES MY SISTER BORROWED HUNGER GAMES FROM HER LIBRARY AND I MIGHT HAD STOLEN IT FROM HER AND READ IT ALL IN A DAY AND MAYBE EVEN READ IT IN A FEW OF THE PERFORMANCES AT THE BACK but mostly I listened to some great music and had an awesome time.

It was just me, my sister, and my dad. Which limits the complaining immensely. The boys never shut up. Actually, neither does Julie, but at least 3/4 of what she says isn't whinging.

Anyway, there was the harp concert! I love the harp concert. So much fun and beautiful music. It's wonderful to hear some of the interesting interpretations of traditional songs (Claire Patti, I heart you) that are played.

Obviously, I went to a lot of beautiful harp concerts. Taliska (with Claire Patti) still sucked, but Culdee was great and I am in rhapsody over Rhapsody, which was definitely my favourite group for the fest. I got my dad to go to one of their concerts, and he mega enjoyed it too!



Aside from the beautiful music, I did go and see some folk rock. Claymore, as always. Brilliant. The Go Set and Between the Wars were also very good, though I rather suspect that Between the Wars are just slightly off their faces. That's what happens when you go into folk rock I guess. :P


I have decided that the bodhran is the sexiest instrument for a guy to play. I may even add it to my list of essential criteria for a husband. To go along with the Christ-loving, orphan-loving, mission-going and baby-making lists. Because there are so many people lined up in the wings for me.

Well, there are in Africa. Though I don't think many African men play the bodhran.

Back to the fest!

There was sword fighting, which I think I might take up if I can manage to work some spare time into my schedule (ha! ha!), and the food was good. The weather wasn't even too atrocious!

It was great! If you ever have a chance to go, then DO!

And incidentally, Claire Patti is releasing a Solo CD on the 28st of July. At the Boite Music Cafe in Fitzroy. I'll be there. Text me if you want details, and I'll pass them to you... sorry, they are at home and I'm at the library.

Monday, 2 July 2012

Home Again, Home Again

So, I'm back home.

It was an interesting journey.

Africa was great. I got proposed to and everything. I don't know if it's a trip to Africa if I'm not proposed to at least once by someone I've never met before, and won't meet again.

But what was really interesting (read, epically terrible) was the trip home.

I had an allergic reaction at the airport in Doha. All staff were great, except the s**tty cafe staff who DIDN'T WASH THEIR EQUIPMENT EVEN THOUGH I TOLD THEM TO AND THEN CORRECTED THEM AND THEY STILL DIDN'T FIX IT. Anyways, I was massively, massively sick. I got a wheel chair and everything.

The wheel chair bit was fun - as was the 1st class lounge that I got to spend my time vommitting in. I would have enjoyed it more... if I hadn't been so sick.

Kind of lucky I was. My lift pulled out and I would have been travelling home by myself with no money for a cab if I hadn't. But a two sentence chew-out including "IM IN A WHEELCHAIR" fixed that.

And RMIT sucks. There was no class. I could have spent another week in Uganda.