A Wee Bit Older

April 14, 2010

It dawned on me the other day that, possibly, I spend far too much time thinking about, and writing about, the weather. In all probability simply the name of this province conjures up images in most people’s minds of a very long, very cold and very stark winter. I’m trying to think if Saskatchewan is famous for anything, but I can’t, actually, but this may be because I had never heard of Saskatchewan before my Dad announced he had got a job here which was, if my memory serves me correctly, the first time The Mushroom had heard of Saskatchewan either, but if it IS famous for anything, and I’m sure it is, I would hazard a guess it is for being very cold.  Ergo, by going on, constantly, about how cold it is, I am not, in fact, saying anything new. I should stop, really. I should talk about something else.



Whilst I was thinking about how I think about the weather too much, I also realised that, whilst I have been sitting on the window ledge thinking about the weather, things around me in our basement suite have changed. It has been quite remiss of me not to notice.

There are some small changes, like the fact that at some point The Mushroom put about nineteen strings of fairy lights up, presumably in a bid to make the place look less like a hole.

There are some fairly big changes, like the fact that The Baby is growing up, and is now over half The Mushroom’s height and says ‘please’.

 And there are some massive changes, like the fact that Fluffy Usurper is also growing up, and is now bigger than me, and urinates EVERYWHERE.  So, not only is our garden full of turds, not only does our doorstep smell of wee, now, our frigging flat smells of wee too.


In any case, the universal urinating seems to have made clear to The Mushroom that it is time to cut Fluffy Usurper’s bollocks off. Personally, I think shagging his sister was a good indication also, but I’m not in charge of these things.

“Right,” she announced, holding Fluffy Usurper at arms length and sniffing the area around the sofa suspiciously, “I’m going to make an appointment to get these off.”

My Dad looked uncertain. “Really? Do we have to?”

The Mushroom dropped him. “He’s weed on the sofa. Yes, they have to come off.  What’s your problem with it? You had Zeebs done.”

Yes. Yes, he did. I remember.

“I just think it’s a bit unfair that you won’t get your hair cut here cos you’re frightened of what they’d do to it, but you’re happy to get his testicles cut off.”

Two weeks ago, The Mushroom decided she needed a hair cut. She did. Her hair was down to her bottom. She had more hair than body. She was beginning to look, in fact, like a Troll Doll. An appointment was booked at a hairdressers in the nearest town. Off she went. Back she came. With exactly the same Troll hair.

“Why didn’t you get it cut?” asked my Dad.

“Because the hairdresser looked like Slash.” she replied.

“Sweetheart, so do you.”

The Mushroom, then, got my Dad to cut about seven inches off with the kitchen scissors. He did quite a good job, actually. It’s a little bit triangular, but I don’t think that really matters.  I don’t, however, think he’d be willing to remove Fluffy Usurper’s testiclods.

They do, absolutely, have to come off. I think I preferred The Mushroom’s scone baking to the new hobby of  Trying To Find The Wee. This new game manifests itself in The Mushroom wandering around around on her hands and knees sniffing corners, like some weird combination of a beaver and a glue sniffer.

Speaking of beavers, The Mushroom came back from a walk very excited recently because she thought she had found a beaver dam. She took a photo and showed it to my Dad, who laughed for about forty five minutes and ended up sweating and needing a lie down. I’ve seen the photo, and suffice to say it could only have been a beaver dam if the beavers were about 9 feet tall and in possession of cranes.

Incidentally, it is still snowing.


2 Responses to “A Wee Bit Older”

  1. Lorie said

    Grain elevators, and strangely, grain. Fields of nothingness, the great abyss.

  2. Lorie said

    oh, and lemon. It deters, and it removes the wee smell. Bit of baking soda couldn’t hurt either.

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