He Can't do Anything to Please Me, Let's Face It

We got up latish, after 10am and got straight in the shower, expecting to have to leave straight away. Then we tip-toed down the stairs quietly with our ears pricked, peeking our heads around every corner looking to see if Guadalupe was here.

She wasn’t! Yay!

I made coffee and muesli and we got our laptops and set up with gay abandon, as if Guadalupe was never going to arrive.

But, eventually, click, click, scuff, scuff, scuff, scuff. “Ullow.”

I looked at Sam, he looked at me.

“Hello,” we carolled in unison.

Then we got our bags, coats and scarves – read, wallets, phones and, in my case, glasses – and exited immediately stage left – read, front door.

The options were the dumpling shop in La Trobe Street, or Korean BBQ in Lonsdale Street. I wanted dumplings, but Sam suggested they were the fattiest option and he wanted fat boy’s old establishment.

Pork fat is fattening?

We ate dumplings. We were getting there just after the lunch period started and the dumpling shop can have quite a queue waiting for tables, but it didn’t this morning, it was predominately empty. So, not to self, the dumpling shop doesn’t fill up until 1pm. You know

As we stepped back out on to La Trobe Street, it was just after 1pm. The sun was shining weakly and we still had an hour and half to fill in before the cleaner left the house.

We walked to Swanston Street and I got Sam the $340 he paid for the new wok and frying pan. $340 for a fry pan and wok. I don’t know? The fry pan and wok I have just replaced didn’t cost any where near that amount of money and they lasted for ten years, or more. So, why did I pay that much for them? If the cheaper ones lasted for as long as I expect the more expensive ones to last, why am I paying the premium price? I don’t know?

I love what they have done to Swanston Street. They have turned it into a pedestrian space right through the centre of the city and it looks great.

We walked to the police station to tell them about the wood chopping nutter man. They couldn’t help much, well, I don’t know who it is or where he lives. But the copper was cute, nice blue eyes.

We headed to the supermarket... of course.

We made baked potatoes and watched TV.

Shane went to gym.

Shane came home in the middle of Offspring. He has this habit of coming in and talking over whatever TV show is going on… because the world revolves around him... and he wants to know! His timing is lousy too. And I suspect Shane is going deaf, so he always asks for things to be repeated.

Rocket the dog has just died and Mick is upset and trying to contact Billie. It is a very emotional and compelling moment.

“What’s going on?” asks Shane.

I wasn’t even going to reply.

“Rocket the dog has died,” replies Sam.

“Who’s dog?” asks Shane.

“Mick’s dog,” replies Sam.

“Who?”

“Mick.”

“Is that him?”

“Yes,” says Sam.

“His dog?”

“Yes,” says Sam.”

“What happened to him.”

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I’m not sure,” says Sam.

“We’re just finding out now,” I say.

“Oh,” says Shane. “Is he dead?”

And the moment is over, Shane has talked all the way through it. There is an ad break and Shane stops asking questions.

He does it all the time. He comes into the kitchen and expects to be informed and filled in irrespective of what any one else is doing. Me, me, me!

The whole Rocket death scene was ruined.