Being Middle Class: Acting like a fishwife

Today is a day NOT to mess with me....

If I were terribly, terribly, middle class and frightfully, frightfully proper I wouldn’t have done wot I did in the Tesco Car Park at lunchtime.

I think my father would have described me as acting like a fishwife. At least that would be the polite version.

Mea Culpa

I hold up my hands.

Guilty as charged

BUT

But  I did have an excuse.

Honest.

Come on have you ever had to work from home AND get your kids to do holiday work?

It’s a recipe for disaster and there is a lot to be said for just giving up and giving in and letting them kick back in front of the TV all day eating crisps. It would be so much easier if I did and I’d get a heck of a lot more work done.

But I know better of course.

I get my kids to do their holiday work come hell or high water and it’s usually both.

They whine, I rumble.

They whine some more and muck about, I growl loudly

They stubbornly refuse to get on with it and I start to shout

They shout back and I explode and there are lots of tears.

After about two hours they settle down for five minutes to get on with it and are then distracted and start to whine all over again about how unfair it is that they have to do holiday work when surely none of their friends have to do any…at this point I go into melt down and basically everything all goes horribly wrong.

I storm out of the house leaving a rather shell shocked family behind. I jump in the car and slew my way down the gravel drive before hurtling into town and Tesco where I intend to pick up sandwiches for lunch and grab some cash – any excuse to get me out of the house so I won't actually carry out my threat of murdering my two boys.

So there I am wondering around the Tesco car park and I see a space; I drive into it then notice there is a space in front that I can drive into allowing me a quick forward getaway when I have finished my chore. But there are two, I’ll call them ladies, gossipping in the space. I nudge my car forward to get them to move so I can park.They stop talking and glare at me momentarily before carrying on.

I wait for them to move.

They don’t.

I rev the engine a little more in case they don't realise that I wish to park where they are standing. I expect them to raise their hands in apology and move away.

They don't instead older woman barks out: “What’s your problem.” Before turning her back on me to carry on talking to her friend.

Normally I would have got all embarrassed and apologised for trying to park and all that but today I have had enough.

Today I am NOT going to be polite.

Today no one had better get in my way.

I flip.

Today I am a real witch.

I rev the car more and hit the horn LONG and LOUD as I drive forward.

"What do you think you are playing at!!" she hollers at me.

"I am parking my car..."

"You could park anywhere!"

"But I don’t want to park anywhere," I say sweetly through gritted teeth."I wish to park here..."

"Well am talking to my friend and I can talk to my friend wherever I like!"

"Great next time try doing it in the middle of the motorway. In the meantime I am parking my car right where your standing - so shift…"

I am not sure if I would have driven right over them but I am glad that they thought I might have driven straight over them.

They even backed right off when I got out of the car still hurtling insults as they walked away.

I should have left it like that.

But as I said: NOT today.

I stalk after them with murder plainly written across my face.

"You want to take this further? Do you? Come on then…"

I honestly believe that I would have got into a full on scrap there and then in the middle of the Tesco car park – talk about anger transference!

They scarpered and I felt…

Brilliant!

It was a total relief.

No shaking, no guilt, no shame.

Went into Tesco and was utterly charming to everyone.

Frightfully Middle Class….

Manners Maketh Man

I am getting seriously OLD but there is one thing that gets me seriously all hot and bothered and that’s manners. Bad manners. For manners maketh man.

I’m not saying you have to hand write thank you letters, an e-mail or a telephone call will suffice, nor am I saying that men should walk on the outside of the pavement when escorting ladies but in general one should be a little more thoughtful and basically polite.

I have a lad who comes to the house and helps in the garden and helps with the chickens at weekends. Or at least it was meant to be every Sunday then that changed and it was whenever he could make it.

Now I don’t need this lad, I can do the work on my own quite happily. I pay the lad, because it’s only fair.  I or Charlie have to stay with him while he works because he’s only 15. We don’t mind unduly. He also scores this occasional day against his Duke of Edinburgh award.

Now the other weekend he was meant to turn up but he didn’t. There was no telephone call to say what was happening. It’s not the first time this has happened. I am obviously meant to know through telepathy when he cannot make it. I did talk to him about it saying we needed to know when he is and isn’t able to work for us and we tell him when we can’t make a day. It made no difference. He did turn up the following week and asked me for a write up re his DoE. I forgot but was reminded in a very terse call whereby I didn’t even get the pleasantries.

It sort of went like this:

Ring ring

Hello, this is Tattie Weasle...

It’s Carter here. I haven’t had my DoE stuff

Oh right errm yes I’ll do that now.

Thanks

Rings off

I was majorly pissed off.

It would have been nice to have a chat more along the lines of:

Ring Ring

Hello, this is Tattie Weasle

Oh Hello Mrs Weasle. Its Carter here…

Oh! Hello Carter, how are you?

I’m fine, thank you Mrs Weasle and yourself?

I’m very well Carter. What can I do for you?

Mrs Weasle you very kindly said you’d do my DoE write up for me I may have given you the wrong e-mail address.

Oh Carter I am terribly sorry of course I’ll do that straight away. I do hope that it won’t cause any problems.

Not at all Mrs Weasle. Thank you so much I really appreciate it. Good bye

Goodbye Carter.

I would have felt very happy and would have written a great long spiel putting as much good spin on as possible. As it was I wrote a three line message and hoped that it was enough.

Needless to say I have not heard a word since and although expected on Sunday he didn’t turn up. Dear Charlie was furious and said we should not have to wait around for him and then added it was better he didn’t work here at all.

And I am in agreement.

It may seem harsh but the lad is 15 years old. He needs to get some manners or else he’s going to find that he ain't going to get very far in this world and people won’t want to do things for him in the future. I know I will be very reticent. Because he’s been unreliable, unmannerly and a pain in the neck to be frank by not telling us when he is and isn’t going to turn up. I don’t think I am asking too much. Just basic manners.

Or am I just getting old?