Another week that was...

by Grant Clark in February 2012 - Clark's Lore

Every now and again life conspires to make my life as interesting and trying as it possibly can. If I was a sensitive person, which thankfully I am not because it requires too much effort, I might take umbrage at such unfair treatment. But then after a moment of reflection I remember that I am a lawyer and in terms of karmic payback I am actually getting off pretty lightly. It also makes me glad that I am not a politician, real estate agent, second hand car salesman or a mother-in-law because I am sure they get it even rougher. At least I really hope they do. To make you feel better about your week, here for your enjoyment is mine.

Monday: TLJ started her week by heading off to Osman’s Wholesalers in order to buy a plethora of paraphernalia for the insane number of children’s parties we would be hosting this year. Having purchased her fill, her bounty was, very kindly, placed into a massive box that happened to be lying around on the floor by the Osman’s staff and then the box was dumped into TLJ’s boot. Now, I only really have two jobs at home which I am allowed to attend to unsupervised. Picking up the dog turds from the lawn and fetching heavy stuff from TLJ’s boot. Everything else requires adult supervision. So on the day in question I was merrily dispatched to fetch the monster box from TLJ’s boot. Just as I opened the boot and managed to wrestle the massive box into the light of day, I spotted one of our neighbours nearby, so being the polite person I am I turned, with the box in hand, to say high and catch up on neighbourhood gossip. The neighbour, who is usually a very genial person, pretty much shut me down as quickly as possible and made some feeble excuse and rushed off to the safety of home. Thinking the behaviour to be a tad unfriendly I sauntered back inside with TLJ’s box to report to TLJ that the neighbours had finally gone mad. As I entered our front door and glanced in our hall mirror I caught sight of what was printed on TLJ’s box and what prompted our neighbour to skedaddle. In massive black font was printed CONTROL PLUS. ADULT DIAPERS FOR INCONTINENCE. Really? “For incontinence”? Is that something that really needs to be printed on the box? Is there some other reason for wanting to wear adult diapers that I am not aware of? Now my entire neighbourhood thinks I am perpetually leaking everywhere I go. I bet you we don’t get an invite to anyone’s house ever again. Seriously, of all the boxes they could have chosen to put TLJ’s shopping in. Thank you very much TLJ and thank you very much Osman’s.

Wednesday: So I am sitting in a meeting at work, it’s amazing how comfortable adult diapers actually are, when I get a picture message on my phone. It is a message from TLJ with a photo of her hand holding a little white object about the size of a tooth saying “Question: what is this?” I immediately start to panic because I am quite clearly in trouble for leaving something small and white lying around which could quite clearly be ingested by Sizzles to her detriment. Just as I am about to lose all hope of remembering what I did wrong another SMS arrives. It read” Answer: the Tic-Tac your daughter just stuffed up her nose.” It turns out that Mackers had nicked one of her Mom’s spearmint Tic-Tacs and not being entirely sure what to do with it, did what any self respecting 3-year-old moron would do and stuffed it up her left nostril. Aside from now having a permanently unblocked and minty fresh left nostril, no lasting damage was done. TLJ was not impressed. I on the other hand was a brilliant parent and was very forgiving and understanding. Mostly because I still have a Smartie stuck in my left nostril from two weeks ago that I am too afraid to tell TLJ about. I am sure it will melt eventually. Anyway, I have another nostril.

Friday: Because Fridays are always a time of celebration, my week ended with the traditional breaking of the zipper festival. This festival, usually celebrated at work and right before a very important and very immediate meeting, involves your pants zipper busting wide open. In fact the wider the better. Not unlike the running of the bulls in Pamplona, navigating your way through the day can be extremely tricky and downright risky. Having a busted zipper and, consequently, having a gaping hole in your crotch area is, in my opinion, marginally distracting to all present especially in a work meeting context. On discovering my predicament the real quandary for me became whether I should announce it to all present thereby making light of my situation, or just be quiet about the whole thing and run the risk of one of the attendees noticing and pointing it out to me as if I hadn’t realised my situation, or worse, thinking that I was a pervert getting my jollies off to the dulcet tones of a negotiation over the value of a company. I chose to confront the issue and make light of my hilarious predicament. The negotiation was brief, conducted in clipped tones and was tinged with a sense of panic. At least I got home early.

So when you are having a bad week, just remember that it could always be worse. You could be a politician, an estate agent, a second hand car salesman, a mother-in-law or, even worse, you could be me.