GANEIDA'S KNOT.

Go mbeannai Dia duit.

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Quaker by conviction, mother by default, Celticst through love, Christ follower because I once was lost but now am found...

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

The great Prawn Race is on.

"Madam, I'll thank you not to insult the hot blood of Irish prawns" ~ the Spy who came in from the Cold.

The prawns are running.  They are arriving in my house by the bucketload & being fried up in a garlicky marinade.  Totally & utterly gross.  There is something quite sadistic about  tearing the head of something & peeling away it's skin before you eat it. So I don't.  Uh~uh, not me. 

Life as we know it has been turned upside down with both boys back in the house.  Even with all our busyness the girls remain serene but man~like the boys thump & bellow & make messes they fail to clean up & quite simply forget there are other people who also live in this house & do not necessarily appreciate their fishy endeavours though they are having some luck with the cats ~ if the prawns are cooked, scaled, de~headed & cut up into bite sized portions.

Then there are the things that go missing; like the egg flip & all my serrated knives.  So I approached Dino as the most likely culprit.  After all, the girls have been home on their own for years & my knives remained intact & the egg flip sat in it's pot. I was very polite.

"Have you seen my egg flip anywhere?" I enquired as nicely as I knew how because it is a well known fact round here the boys have thin skins & are easy to huff up.

"Why would I have seen your egg flip?  Why would you even think I had your egg flip?  You always say I've taken your stuff but why would I need your egg flip?"

"You didn't borrow it for camping?"

"I haven't been camping in weeks....Oh!" Yep, still at the bottom of his kit bag!  I didn't enquire what else was still at the bottom of his kit bag but I got  back a mug, a set of cutlery & one large plate.

A walk round the yard turned up most of the steak knives; don't ask ~ & Theo brought me my paring knife, found floating round the bottom of the boat.  It's not that they don't have their own stuff.  They do; they just can never find it.  Me, I put stuff back where I can find it,  [Yes, mother, there is a system to my chaos.] so the boys borrow mine because it is easily accessible rather than go look for their own.

I had quite a fellow feeling for Star when she enquired plaintively, "When is Theo going back?" working, I assume, on the assumption one is easier to deal with than two & Dino is far more susceptible to *The Look*.  Theo just declares war.  After all she is younger than he is, female, the baby of the family & this is his house too,  he is on holiday & entitled to the status of *House Guest*.  Hmmm.

At which point Dino arrives to take over the cooking before I charcoal it because he likes his practically still saying, Moo ~ a habit that does not endear him to Star ~ & Theo pauses on his way out the door to thank me for doing all his washing, bringing it in & putting it away.  In a century or two they may just have evolved into quite decent men.  What do you think?  Room for improvement but lots to hope for?

4 comments:

ronrosemaryrebekah@gmail.com said...

oh I do feel for you with all those men:)
their brains are just wired differently to ours aren't they!
btw, I'll be on holidays for a while from next week so if I dont come by for a visit, that'll be why:) I won't be publishing it on my blog for obvious reasons.

seekingmyLord said...

Sounds like men who need wives to me.

Ganeida said...

Enjoy your holiday, Rosemary. It's well earned. ☺

Seeking: they may need wives but finding them is another matter. ;P

MamaOlive said...

Oh, dear! I was hoping it would get better when they get older. Now you're telling me it gets worse because they get into everything, not just the things left unattended. But you say they do get more useful, so I guess it's not all bad. ;-)