Returning towards the compound from the local shop I am stopped at a roundabout by the police for a random spot check.
''ID and Licence.''
''Oh no! Sorry officer they are in my purse at home. Sorry. I have my Istimara (vehicle registration card).'' Fluttering my eyelashes beneath my sunglasses and over apologising seems to work wonders.
''You have Licence?''
''Of course I do! Sorry, it's at home.''
And really, of course, I do. I am very honest (despite many other flaws) and cannot tell a lie no matter how hard I try. Which is annoying as I seem to get myself into more trouble by being so honest! I resist going for the full monty, deciding not raise my glasses and flash blue mischief at him. Leave the poor man alone he's only doing his job. Instead, I choose to smile my most radiant beam of joy at him. He reciprocates and I can't help noticing how badly he needs some dental treatment.
''It's OK, OK, OK.''
''OK.Thank you, bye, sorry, bye!'' Phew.
As I accelerate away from my misdemeanour, I'm chuckling and singing along with the Electronic lyrics zooming around in my head, '' I've been getting away with it all my life.''
Josh dressed up as his hero one day during the school book week celebrations. He looked more like he was going to a wedding or christening in his navy trousers and checked shirt than James Bond. Some days if we are lucky we get the first few notes of the Bond theme tune played to us on a recorder. Usually between 5.30 and 6.00 am.
Supermum (not in fancy dress) cycled to the rescue, delivering 007's forgotten P.E kit. At least he had remembered to put his black plastic gun in his back trouser pocket. It was worth the trip as I got to see so many Supermen, Superwomen, Batmen, Batwomen and Spidermen using their wonderful powers playing happily together at first break, proving that ''we can be heroes, just for one day.''
Friday the 13th brought a couple of surprises my way when Romeo and Mini-Me returned home with a whole dead sea turtle and snake. I was confounded for a while, did my hunter-gatherers expect me to create some kind of nourishing soup with their catch? My culinary skills are already being challenged daily, having to nutritionally balance the diets for two young athletes, Romeo and Juliet's conflicting appetites and now two visiting senior citizens.
The wonderful time came for us adults to dress up again and attend a Mad Hatter's Tea Party. No-one drank any tea as far as I could see. I struggled into the four sizes too small costume which is like a child's leotard with a full black net tutu attached to it. I can't velcro it up at the back so I have to wear something under and over it to remain decent. It's like having a permanent wedgy. Am I the Queen of Hearts or Tarts? I baked some more biscuit hearts to share, (Valentine's Day) revealing that I am more concerned with love than lust.
It's my first public outing with the neon blue wig on, a momentous occasion by all accounts. Drinking my poison from a dainty teacup helps to limit the liquid intake as it is such a rigmarole to go to the toilet. Probably how my Elizabethan ancestors felt on a daily basis trussed up in their corsets and gowns. Everyone looked great and we had so much fun playing silly games together. Our hostess, one of the kindest cards in the pack, went to a lot of trouble to make sure all her guests had a good time. It was reassuring to know that I am in fact living amongst some lovely lunatics here. My tutu took over at around midnight forcing me to attempt the huge Flashdance leap in the air as Irene Cara sang/shouted the lyric, ''What a feeling!''
I'm pleased to report no injuries were sustained and I could happily cycle home, wig on my handle bars, empty teapot and cups clinking together in my cool bag.
Would you believe it on the way to the shop a couple of days later I get stopped again. Different officer, perfect teeth. Fortunately this time I had seen the flashing blue lights, done a quick U-turn, returned home to get my riyal-less purse, bursting with the necessary cards.
''ID and Licence.''
Smugly I hand them over. It's cloudy today so I don't need my sunglasses. However, I sense no nonsense with this younger man.
''Istimara.''
Agh! Panic! ''I'm in my friend's car. Oh, hang on, it's here somewhere. Wait a minute. It's here, I've got it. There you go!'' Phew.
Good job my car lending friend is organised.
I was a Brownie, Girl Guide and a Young Leader so I really should always be prepared.
Getting Away With It by Electronic (1990)
Heroes by David Bowie & Brian Eno (1977)
Flashdance...What a Feeling by Irene Cara (1983)
''ID and Licence.''
''Oh no! Sorry officer they are in my purse at home. Sorry. I have my Istimara (vehicle registration card).'' Fluttering my eyelashes beneath my sunglasses and over apologising seems to work wonders.
''You have Licence?''
''Of course I do! Sorry, it's at home.''
And really, of course, I do. I am very honest (despite many other flaws) and cannot tell a lie no matter how hard I try. Which is annoying as I seem to get myself into more trouble by being so honest! I resist going for the full monty, deciding not raise my glasses and flash blue mischief at him. Leave the poor man alone he's only doing his job. Instead, I choose to smile my most radiant beam of joy at him. He reciprocates and I can't help noticing how badly he needs some dental treatment.
''It's OK, OK, OK.''
''OK.Thank you, bye, sorry, bye!'' Phew.
As I accelerate away from my misdemeanour, I'm chuckling and singing along with the Electronic lyrics zooming around in my head, '' I've been getting away with it all my life.''
Josh dressed up as his hero one day during the school book week celebrations. He looked more like he was going to a wedding or christening in his navy trousers and checked shirt than James Bond. Some days if we are lucky we get the first few notes of the Bond theme tune played to us on a recorder. Usually between 5.30 and 6.00 am.
Supermum (not in fancy dress) cycled to the rescue, delivering 007's forgotten P.E kit. At least he had remembered to put his black plastic gun in his back trouser pocket. It was worth the trip as I got to see so many Supermen, Superwomen, Batmen, Batwomen and Spidermen using their wonderful powers playing happily together at first break, proving that ''we can be heroes, just for one day.''
Friday the 13th brought a couple of surprises my way when Romeo and Mini-Me returned home with a whole dead sea turtle and snake. I was confounded for a while, did my hunter-gatherers expect me to create some kind of nourishing soup with their catch? My culinary skills are already being challenged daily, having to nutritionally balance the diets for two young athletes, Romeo and Juliet's conflicting appetites and now two visiting senior citizens.
The wonderful time came for us adults to dress up again and attend a Mad Hatter's Tea Party. No-one drank any tea as far as I could see. I struggled into the four sizes too small costume which is like a child's leotard with a full black net tutu attached to it. I can't velcro it up at the back so I have to wear something under and over it to remain decent. It's like having a permanent wedgy. Am I the Queen of Hearts or Tarts? I baked some more biscuit hearts to share, (Valentine's Day) revealing that I am more concerned with love than lust.
It's my first public outing with the neon blue wig on, a momentous occasion by all accounts. Drinking my poison from a dainty teacup helps to limit the liquid intake as it is such a rigmarole to go to the toilet. Probably how my Elizabethan ancestors felt on a daily basis trussed up in their corsets and gowns. Everyone looked great and we had so much fun playing silly games together. Our hostess, one of the kindest cards in the pack, went to a lot of trouble to make sure all her guests had a good time. It was reassuring to know that I am in fact living amongst some lovely lunatics here. My tutu took over at around midnight forcing me to attempt the huge Flashdance leap in the air as Irene Cara sang/shouted the lyric, ''What a feeling!''
I'm pleased to report no injuries were sustained and I could happily cycle home, wig on my handle bars, empty teapot and cups clinking together in my cool bag.
Would you believe it on the way to the shop a couple of days later I get stopped again. Different officer, perfect teeth. Fortunately this time I had seen the flashing blue lights, done a quick U-turn, returned home to get my riyal-less purse, bursting with the necessary cards.
''ID and Licence.''
Smugly I hand them over. It's cloudy today so I don't need my sunglasses. However, I sense no nonsense with this younger man.
''Istimara.''
Agh! Panic! ''I'm in my friend's car. Oh, hang on, it's here somewhere. Wait a minute. It's here, I've got it. There you go!'' Phew.
Good job my car lending friend is organised.
I was a Brownie, Girl Guide and a Young Leader so I really should always be prepared.
Getting Away With It by Electronic (1990)
Heroes by David Bowie & Brian Eno (1977)
Flashdance...What a Feeling by Irene Cara (1983)
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