Being told off as an adultWhen was the last time you were properly told off? You know: treated as an errant child rather than the sophisticated adult you are.
The sort of thing that dredges up an involuntary teenage mumble of "Sorry, Miss" whilst you stare at the ground.
Go on, tell us what childish thing you were up to when you got caught.
Oh, and can we have more than one-line answers this time? Cheers!
(
chthonic, Thu 20 Sep 2007, 17:18)
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TeachersThey never switch off. Not ever. Even after years of (ahem) domestic bliss with Mrs Osok, she still will flip into frowny eyebrow telling off mode causing terror in the civilian population and scaring any nearby domestic livestock. Anyhoo...
This particular incident arose after 'we' had decided to rehome two of our puddy tats (out of five). OK, not a nice thing really, but with two Osoklets crawling around it was getting a bit busy. So 'we' decided that two sisters could go together to keep each other company. Sounded great - nice house in the country, big garden, outbuildings, small fluffy animals to mutilate and eat, all that.
So, after actually catching the fluffy psychopaths, applying bandages to my perforated and slashed extremities and taking off the gloves and body armour, 'we' set off. Long trip, during which she cries. Constantly. For two hours. And also informs me halfway there that one of the two mogs was her favourite and she didn't want her to be deported to Suffolk. Perfect timing there. When 'we' arrive, I am told to be quick. So, drop off the puddys, who seem quite interested in the new gaff, return to car, get an earful of full blown hysterics etc etc. Hey Ho.
Two days later the little buggers legged it, doing a Stalag Luft PuddyTat job - locked house, nothing open etc. Current location unknown, but food mysteriously disappears so they're no doubt hiding in the bushes and sniggering in a fluffy manner watching distraught humans running around trying to tempt them out with fishy treats.
Sooo... after a week of THE SILENCE, I get THE TALK. I vaguely remember the words 'disappointed' blah blah 'not discussed' blah blah 'feelings' blah blah. After THE TALK I assumed a mournful expression and said I was guilty of a crime somewhere in seriousness between genocide and morris dancing. She said she felt like a load had been taken off her shoulders etc etc. All happy.
You'd think she would have noticed that I was blind drunk at the time, was lying on the floor with my head inside the osoklet's playgym, and had been paying absolutely no attention...
Still, it did mean sexual privileges were restored and I didn't have to check for cut brake lines or IEDs under the car every morning.
I'm now thinking of getting a 'Cat Trafficer' T-Shirt made.
(awaiting fluffy-lover incoming - why do you think this was posted on a Tursday?)
(, Thu 27 Sep 2007, 10:08, Reply)
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