won't know if you listen, or care. But I guess I will know if you don't
care all that much... I digressed again didn't I ?
Anyhoo.
After being a lazy git all week, and failing to clean my flat, that had
started to take on the air of a student residence I have really made
Saturday count. I've made it count in more ways than one. For your
enjoyment (or not as the case may be) I am going to list them now.
The lovely new microwave that my mum and dad had brought me for my
birthday, sadly, didn't work. So my dad helped me take it back to those
cheerful fellows at Tesco today. I know that their day to day work is
not the most entertaining thing to do for a living, but it would be nice
if the person doing all the work IE traipsing from one end of the
aircraft hanger style store to the other, to take the faulty microwave
to the 'correct' returns desk. They call them customer service desks, I
don't know why they bother. Really. I don't.
Is it too much to expect that having been put out, and disappointed by
their product, which cost just shy of £100, it wouldn't be too much to
ask that they were the ones doing the running around us. Not so much of
a sorry from the assistant as she battled with her company's exhaustive
returns policy. Why on earth do they need to ask you for you address,
enter it into the computer and then ask you to write it down anyway on
the return slip ? It's just stupid.
A quick trip back to mine, and unpacking the newly replaced microwave
confirmed that the new one did in fact... microwave. We took the old one
and the packaging for the new one to the tip. To be added to the pile of
electrical unwanteds. What a strange image of our society such places
create. That we love things like crazy for a really short amount of
time, and then we discard them like rubbish. The Victorians built things
to last. We build them to throw away.
Something unfamiliar happened, when my dad dropped me back at mine, he
stayed for a cup of coffee. I've known my dad for 38 years, and he's
never, ever stopped for a cup of coffee before. Never just hung round
for a chat. It's just not something we've ever done. Sure he's helped me
in loads of ways with household appliances, or DIY before now, and that
would involve some sort of conversation, but this, well, this was... a
coffee.
I find that the fact I think that is an unfamiliar thing in my
relationship with my own father rather sad. It says lots of things about
how I relate to the man responsible for bringing me into the world, but
what it says, I don't like. I feel ashamed, embarrassed and cheated.
Cheated somehow of a better relationship. I can talk for ages about all
sorts of things, most of them utter rubbish with my mum, but
conversations with my dad, not so flowing.
Everyone else in my family, gives a hug, or a kiss on the cheek as a
farewell. I always feel a little awkward that my dad, shakes my hand. I
don't expect the kiss on the cheek, and he doesn't do it to affront me
in any way, it's just I can read how he feels awkward about it.
I want to be sure that my daughter never feels like that about me. But
how can I ? Be sure that is.
After my dad's very nice chat and coffee, I set about correcting the
dust and mess problem that was in serious danger of taking over the
flat. It always feels good to have the flat nice and clean. Something
about the combination of clean floors, the smell of Mr Sheen, and Bleach
that makes a house seem like a home. Well, okay, a home that has 'odour
de swimming pool' about it.
Went food shopping, so after not being happy that Tesco had deprived me
of a week's enjoyment of my new microwave birthday present. I protested
by giving them more money. Idiot.
With my completed washing airing nicely, it was time to go collect my
daughter, and then off to visit my Nan.
Taking of family relationships, I haven't seen my Nan in... well a long
time. You wouldn't think that we all live in the same city, my Parents,
my sister, my Nan and I. It had also been a long while since she had
seen my daughter, and if I can notice each week how much she is growing,
I am damn sure that my Nan can.
My Nan showed us both some lovely old family photos. Some of which she
found fascinating, some funny.
The only thing I haven't done yet is fix my bike's flat back tyre. But
right now I'm too tyred to do it....ahem. sorry, all of my jokes are
like that. They really are.
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