Charles47
Mum most certainly did, and good for her! Later today is the scattering of her ashes, but I got a little bit distracted, as follows:
My pesky, long term, low grade snuffly cold, which finally turned into a proper cold, then transmogrified into an even more pesky raging chest infection. Antibiotics sorted that out, but then I got cystitis (OUCH!) Cymalon sorted that out. End result? Today was the first day in days that I haven’t felt as weak as kitten. I even woke up today feeling ravenous for the first time in nearly a week (always a good sign) and knocked myself up a full English breakfast which I devoured, hungry as the proverbial wolf.
SM has been away in Oxford since Friday. He’d taken his mum there to visit her best friend as a Mother’s Day pressie.
He came to visit me this morning earlier than expected. As such he caught me in the middle of doing a pedicure; my version of one, anyway.
KNOCK, KNOCK!
Me: Come in, the door’s unlocked.
SM: Jesus! It smells like a municipal swimming pool from the 70’s in here. What on earth are you doing?
I was sitting down with my pajama bottoms rolled up to my knees, with each foot half stuck in two plastic chippy containers, each half filled with liquid.
Me: I’m bleaching my toes nails. What does it look like!
SM: Whatever for?
Me: I don’t like having discoloured toe nails.
SM: But you don’t have discoloured toe nails.
Me: That’s because I bleach them…. Durr! If I didn’t they end up looking nicotine stained, as though each of my toes nails chain smokes fags 24/7; especially the big toes.
SM: Is it safe?
Me: In comparison to all those chemicals and shit you insist on using day in and day out on your bod, I think a little bleach every now and then on my toe nails will do me no harm; don’t you?
SM: I suppose so. Now about….
Me: I know, let’s have a dekko at your nails. Come on, whip off those socks and shoes… chop, chop now.
SM: Yes, Sir, no Sir, three bags full Sir (followed by mock salute.)
Me: Bloody hell, mate. Your toenails are bigger chain smokers than mine. Let’s bleach them; you’ll be amazed at the difference.
SM: The combined wrath of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse couldn’t force me to bleach my toe nails.
Well, the four housemen of the Apocalypse can’t be all they’re cracked up to be because I succeeded where they would’ve failed. It took a trade or two mind you.
I finished off my pedicure, and set to on my quest to bleach SM’s toe nails. I should’ve chosen my words more carefully.
Me: I’ll tell you what if you agree to bleach your toe nails I’ll give you a full monty pedicure. How does that grab you?
SM: What man wouldn’t be grabbed by a woman giving him a pedicure buck naked? It’s definitely a deal.
Me: I didn’t mean that. I meant a full on pedicure. The soaking of the feet, the clipping of the toe nails, the pumice stone stuff THEN the bleaching of the toes nails, then the rinse, dry and moisturise stuff. You can pretend I’m Mary Magellan if you like. If I remember rightly, you’ve got a thing about her.
SM: Interesting…. I’ll agree to the full on pedicure if you agree to do it Full Monty style. Deal?
Me: I’m supposed to be pretending to be Mary Magdalene not Salome. But if I agree, how do I know you won’t chicken out at the bleaching bit?
SM: My word is my bond. Don’t you trust me?
Me: Hmm… You’re an ex city trader. What do you think? I’ll agree to the Full Monty bit, once those toes of yours are emerged in bleach. Deal?
SM: Ex stock broker actually; there’s a difference. But if I agree, how do I know I can trust you not to renege on your part of the deal?
Me: You can’t.
SM: Hmmm…. Do the first half topless, and once my toes are in bleach then the full Monty, then it’s a deal.
Me: Make it the other way round, and you’ve got a deal.
SM: Deal.
Me: Right, get those trousers legs rolled up, and I’ll go get a bowl of hot water and some more smellies.
SM: Aren’t you forgetting something? (Pointing at my pyjama bottoms.)
Me: I bet Mary Magdalene never had this palaver giving JC a pedicure.
SM: And I bet JC never had to have his toes nails bleached either. Think of yourself as a two bit Salome instead.
Me: Charming!
SM: But true though. After all she had seven bits of clothing to remove, you only have two bits.
Me: Hmmmm….. You wriggled out of that one well, Sunshine.
Needless to say, I hammed it up something rotten pretending to be a cross between Mary M and Salome. I’d have been great in silent movies. His bleached toe nails looked terrific; SM was most amazed at the difference, as predicted. The rest I shall leave to your imagination.
Sometime later...................................
I got so distracted by my biblical interpretation of a pedicure and its aftermath that I completely forgot I was to pick up mum’s ashes today. It would’ve been her birthday today, and I thought it would be a good day to bring her home…. And I nearly forgot!!!!!
We picked the ashes up, and I don’t think mum would’ve minded about my distraction; I think she would’ve been pleased. She was always going on about me to go ‘courting.’ Well, I did a little bit more than courting today, and damn near forgot her ashes to boot; but all’s well that ends well. It is the 21st Century, after all.
I’m holding a little scattering of the ashes ceremony in her beloved garden tonight. I’ll write about that later.