title?
Oh, goody, a topic I can post on, thanks to my mother, who has been blessed with the female equivalent of Finbarr Saunders for a daughter as well as her tendency to engage the mouth before the brain. Thanks to this, my mother is now a touch more clued up on expressions and practices than she really ever wanted to be.
My mums lovely, a really sweet lady, a little sheltered perhaps, tends to see the good in people and tries really hard just to make sure everyone is OK and looked after. You know the type. My dads a bit more on to it, and my brother and sister, well, we’re all pretty filthy-minded. Just to set give you an idea of the dynamic.

So the first time my bloke meets the fambly. Him and me are reasonably serious as a couple, and he wants to make a good impression, so he’s on best behaviour. Poor bloke, dealing with my family in one meeting.
All’s going well so far, we’re sitting in the living room, we’ve had a nice cuppa and some bikkies, my mum has asked my bloke all about his job, his parents, a bit about his childhood, and all is going swimmingly, until, my mum, obviously scraping the barrel slightly to sustain the conversational flow comes out with the immortal line . . . “So . . . . Tom . . . have you ever had a dog?”
Poor bloke didn’t know what to say, especially with the rest of us blatantly crying with laughter. It would have been quite rude, he thought, to join in to complete a room of people laughing at my mum. At least the first time he met her. Bless.

But it gets better. Not content with that little faux pas, fast forward an hour or so (wibbly lines) and we’re all sitting round the dinner table; Mum’s serving up, but can’t quite reach what she needs to . . . “excuse me, Tom . . . while I just come in front of you”. Again he had the commendable ability to keep a straight face as, again, we collectively herniate around him.
_____________________________________________________
Another time . . . with reference to quickly walking the dog down the alley way behind our garden (good old northern streets with the alleyways separating the houses from one road to the next) as opposed to a decent 20 minute walkie . . .

“ I’m just going to take the dog up the back” (I actually have dubious photographic evidence of this act, scarily enough)



Oh, there are loads more but I can’t remember them, as is my fashion. I’m loving this thread though, definite tea-spitting at the screen here being a regular occurrence.



To comment on length would just be wrong in this topic.
(maggotriddendirtbox fast, feral and sharp as a tack since, Sun 15 Jun 2008, 10:36, Reply)