Wednesday 6 January 2010

Burberry Pooch Pouches

'Stand in' post from Potty Mummy's sister.

PM is either winging her way to Russia or sitting in the departures lounge trying to keep Boys # 1 and 2 occupied with approved reading, unscheduled snacks and the sight of several planes on the tarmac. Boy #1 will be happy with the snacks. Boy #2 has probably found his way into a cockpit and is trying to gain a slot for take off from an unsuspecting air traffic controller...'but exactly where in Russia, Flight Bravo Alpha niner-three?...We don't have any co-ordinates for ice skates and a pool.'

Anyway, she's asked me to keep her blog warm with a guest post until she bundles kids and husband into slankets and snow boots, closes the door behind them and pulls the laptop from the priority baggage. I'm missing her already, but won't go into that, or else will start crying into the keyboard.

I've just returned from a stupidly expensive ski trip to eastern Canada. Thirty Canadian dollars for a glass of Moet (THIRTY?) led to us wandering around the hotel on New Year's Eve clutching a carrier bag containing a bottle of duty-free champagne and several glasses of various shapes and sizes borrowed from several of our party's rooms. Well, after having to tip enough during the previous few days to pay back the Icelandic debt, I thought we were entitled to a break from the spending.

We had a great holiday, despite the expense, (I had to sit down with a stiff drink after settling the bar bill. D'oh! There goes another thirty dollars). We spent Christmas Day morning with friends on the slopes, husband and son on double blacks, me trundling down easy blues and were back in time for a huge breakfast and then gift exchange. As Master Card says - priceless. And he should know, we paid him enough for the pleasure.

However, the holiday did confirm to me that I have A Problem. Its been creeping up on me for a few years. First, the realisation that the less people have to say of anything of substance, the louder they speak. I learned that one in queues in airports, shops, restaurants - any place where people gather in annoying numbers (i.e. over 4), and invade my personal space (i.e. stand within 10 feet of me).

My Problem has now reached the point where everyone, other than friends and family, annoys me on holiday:

The couple staying in the seventh floor Gold Suites (my nirvana...I will get there one day) who wore sunglasses inside - they annoyed me.

The three pre teen boys who kept playing with their hair, wore skinny jeans and were allowed to roam at all hours around the resort with their own credit cards - they annoyed me, (well, I think they would have annoyed anyone).

The woman who came and sat on the fireplace ledge in front of me, blocking out my heat - she annoyed me.

The people who fell off the chair lifts, thus causing it to slow down - they annoyed me (oh, how quickly I forget).

And when I say 'annoy', I mean that seethe with a silent, low level but unhealthy rage until I can't bear it and have to start a quiet, half whispered rant to my husband about the unsuspecting perpetrator of the latest crime. 'See that woman over there? The one with the two small dogs in tartan baby slings? There, the one with the furry boots and the son in the stetson? Can't you see? The one with sunglasses and implants? Well, she's wearing really annoying perfume...'

I will have to address The Problem soon. If this carries on, I'll end up like my dad (see previous PM posts for more details) or will drive my husband to some sort of breakdown. He's already started humming tunelessly every time someone wearing a fur coat or a slightly large hat comes into view. And I've noticed that he rocks backwards and forwards very gently if we're sitting in a restaurant near someone talking to their children in the third person...'Zander, Mummy would really like you to try another mouthful. Would you, darling? Or would you like a biscuit? Juice? Would Zander like juice?' Zander would like to be left in peace with a Power Rangers comic and no questions asked, but that's as likely as me joining another Reading Group. Don't ask.

Anyway, I digress. I've decided to tackle The Problem. And have booked another ski trip. To France for half term. Busy pistes. Expensive beer. Airport queues. Lots and lots of loud braying types, (alas, no small pooches in Burberry carry pouches, but you can't have it all). If this doesn't cure me, nothing will. At least, that's what I'll say to the bank manager when I explain the hefty overdraft.

Happy New Year, everyone!

15 comments:

  1. Haha! The best laugh I've had all day. Love your observations: I thought it was just me who takes irrational dislike to people for bizarre reasons.
    An observation of my own re: holidays - if there is a queue for a check-in desk etc, the person causing the bother will most probably be wearing a hat! If you spot one ahead of you, change to another line!

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  2. Footballer's Knees (for it is she writing this post, oh yes, no anonymity for you my dear), fabulous post as ever, love it, please do more whilst I'm in transit?

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  3. Hi Trish, thanks for your comment, love the tip about people with hats, you're absolutely right, that's why it takes me so long to get through passport control.

    PM - thanks, yes, will keep your blog warm if you're going to be battling through metre high snow and prizing the husband's noise reducing headphones from his ears. Hope you have an excellent journey!

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  4. The French Alps? At half term? Have you completely lost your mind? On the other hand, how long do you have to spend in a French prison before all your credit card debts are wiped clean?

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  5. Heather, you're probably right, but surely I'd get free wine with dinner in a French prison? And it would be worth 6 months inside to wipe the sunglasses from the Annoying faces!

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  6. Thirty Canadian dollars for wine?? Daylight robbery. You should have come skiing in the States where everything is realtively dirt cheap. Or aren't you allowed in.....?

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  7. Could so relate - I'm so grumpy and impatient with everyone.

    Yes, why do people fall of the lifts so that they slow down? Very irritating.

    Great post!

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  8. oh, we would most certainly annoy you. we are loud and irritating. dig is the only diplomat in this family. and even he sometimes walks about without his trousers.

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  9. I think we should form a consortium and call it 'The Problem Posse(es)', as fortunately - or not, depends on your point of view - there are many more just like you seething with annoyance (annoyment? sounds better) at otherwise innocuous items.

    I am certainly a signed up member. Who's next?

    LCM x

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  10. I do agree with you re the parents who speak to their children for the benefit of other adults in the vicinity.

    I have a friend who called her third child Xander. When the older brother (aged 3 at the time) was asked by the preschool teacher what his parents had named the baby, he replied "Goosey Goosey".

    So Potski Mumski has departed these shores then?

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  11. Great guest blog, by the way. The blogging equivalent of a slanket.

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  12. Why hasn't Potty let you out before??
    Hilarious..lots of people annoy me

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  13. From Footballers Knees - Thanks all for your comments.
    Expat Mum - probably not allowed in to the States any more - not after the incident with the naked lady who my sis and I interrupted washing herself in the toilets of the Greyhound bus station in Chicago.
    London City Mum - sign me up as member no. 2
    Iota - PM has left these shores - after trouble with storage and forgetting various children's clothing items. I think she's been counting to 100 a few times and may have OD'd on the Diet Coke.

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  14. "two small dogs in tartan baby slings"??? I'm speechless! I've seen people around here pushing their dogs in doggy strollers, somehow I've gotten used to seeing that in the Boca mall, laughed really hard at first, now used to it. But dogs in baby slings?

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  15. THis is my first time to the Potty Diaries but I can SO realte to this post! I've realised over the past couple of years that I get annoyed by...PEOPLE... THinking about it parricularly by Italian school trips on the metro when I'm trying to get to work ( I live in Milan) - they're just SO loud - I end up glaring at the teacher thinking "discipline! That's hat we had in my day..."

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