Sunday, 20 November 2011

Sunday acts of mindless criminality

Sunday. We haven't got a television set. The iplayer won't play. And I can no longer read the Independent thanks to their annoying error 400 meditating guru squatting on my wires.

I am at a loose end.

I could explore my infinite ability to irritate people and make them feel vaguely uncomfortable without knowing why.

So I would like to announce that I have cruelly and maliciously and with intent, upset the children again, mostly by breathing in that confrontational way I have. By regarding their reaction I have thus derived much satisfaction and amusement.

I also discover I can now annoy the neighbours deliberately, by walking across the front room wearing heavy wellington boots. Each footstep is clearly an act of naked aggression. Especially since I am not wearing any clothes, and becoming more sure by the moment that the neighbours are now peering in shock and revulsion through the windows.

And yes! Dig and I have had a proper set-to with weapons. We had a fantastic yell and brutally went at each other with pickled onion stabbers and a packet of dried yeast. We locked the children out the house first, where everyone could hear them weeping.

Ha! Now I can scandalise the entire Cantonese population of Hong Kong by broadcasting that I am making free with their temple candles. Not only is it birthday cake that benefits from their delightful candles manufactured for ancestral worship, I also disrespectfully melt whole packets of them so I can save ten dollars and make fake sealing wax for kiddy craft activities based on the Magna Carta.

It is a very slow Sunday.

And I am given to provocation.

None of the above is true. Well, not for today, anyway. Sunday is a generally goody-two-shoes sort of day, is it not, with its peace and quiet and let's stay in the house and not go anywhere or do anything.

Thanks to Sunday's pervasive atmosphere of domestic calm, I have demonstrated my girly swot side, and succeeded only in annoying myself.

I have studiously completed the weekly assignments for the kids, been serious and mindful all day long, failed to drink more than one measly can of Blue Girl lager, and displayed my housewife credentials for all the community to see by doing the shopping and taking the laundry to Mrs Chang's. I picked up the towels at 7.30 ready for the children to shower, then I cooked dinner, listened to the Lamentations of Jeremiah, and went to bed.

I must do better on the provoking front.

I am rather taken by the idea of naked wellington boot dancing. Next Sunday I might try that for real.

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