Yesterday I made a promise to a reader of this diary, Helen, to get everyone all caught up on my relationship with Handsome-Rob.
Unfortunately I spoke too soon as I had overlooked the fact that today; it’s the Teenager’s 16th birthday.
He’s delighted because he’s sixteen and is now a fully grown, able to ride a little-red-moped, manly-man.
I’m delighted because the next time he looks at me in the wrong tone of voice, I can finally whip out the suitcase I’ve had stashed under the stairs for the last few months, tip his underwear drawer into it, point him in the direction of the bus stop whilst imparting useful advice like ‘a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,’ ‘a rolling stone gathers no moss,’ and my personal favourite, ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you.’
The birthday-day has been good fun but, unfortunately, there was a bit of a cock-up in the ‘personalised-birthday-card-from-my-mum’ department.
Instead of the ‘Happy 16th Birthday Michael’ card that she ordered, complete with the snazzy collage of pictures of the birthday boy that she spent hours uploading and designing, ‘Funky Pigeon.com’ decided, in their infinite wisdom, to send him the following;
Dear Aunty Marion,
Thank you so much for being there to share our special day. We had an absolutely wonderful time and we hope that you did too! It was good to see you and Granny up there dancing away! Thank you also for your very kind contribution to our honeymoon in Thailand. It was an amazing experience, truly the holiday of a lifetime!
We look forward to seeing you again soon.
Love Becks & Ben MacDermott
I don’t know what Aunty Marion thought when, for no reason at all and out of the blue, she received a bunch of pictures of some random Teenager scowling and glowering at the camera, but I know for certain that she hasn’t yet been thanked for her sizeable contribution to her niece’s vacation of lurve.
On that basis, I’m pretty sure that when, in about three months’ time, Becks or Ben MacDermott call up their lovely, bonnet-knitting, cake-baking old aunty to see if they can pop round for a scone and instead, get treated to a thoroughly ‘un-old-ladylike’ mouthful of abuse ending with a parting shot of “and you can pay for your own effing holiday next time, you ungrateful slag,” that Becks and Ben are going to be just as mystified as the rest of us.
‘Funky Pigeon’ are entrusted with delivering incredibly important messages and sentiments that, if not correct and on time, can cause immeasurable upset and hurt.
I won’t be risking using ‘Flunky-Pigeon’ or their ilk again.
A thank you note of some importance has gone astray. Will the error ever come to light or will Aunty Marion feel, for the rest of her days, rather sore that she didn’t apparently deserve so much as a ‘cheers love’?
You want my advice? Buy the card yourself. Write it yourself. Post it yourself.
Service industry based country, my arse. It remains as true today as it ever did; you want something done?
You’d better do it yourself.