What Lies Between Us…

August 14, 2010


The Mushroom keeps secrets.

Secrets are bizarre, human things. Other mammals don’t keep secrets, not deliberately. Whilst I’m not 100% keen on being watched whilst keeping my areas clean, it’s not a secret that I do it. I’m a little embarassed that I seem to constantly get beaten up by every other cat in Christendom, but I don’t try to hide it. It’s nobody’s business but mine that I lick all the gravy from my meat pouches first, but I don’t wear a mask, I don’t hide anything, I don’t keep secrets. Keeping secrets is the willful concealment of one’s true self.  I think.

How one keeps secrets from the people with whom you live is a mystery to me, no pun intended.  But slowly, incrementally, like an onion or, I suppose, like a lychee (‘Oooh, what’s this? A type of conker? A small cake? No, it’s an eyeball!’), her secrets are being peeled away. I wonder how this is perceived by humans; is it seen as a sign of trust when someone can reveal their true self eventually, or is it seen as a sign of earlier fraud that simply can’t be kept up? I wish I could ask.

Secret 1: Curl Creme. Exposure Date: January 2010.  Location: The Prairies.

The Mushroom has naturally curly hair. My Dad loves it. Sometimes, when he’s had a few beers, he gets all wistful and Renaissance-y about it (by that I mean, all poetic and romantic and that. Not that he started drawing helicopters or painting chapels or anything). What he didn’t know, until January of this year when my Dad tidied the bathroom and threw out the innocuous looking tube of goo, is that if The Mushroom doesn’t put about a pound of product on it it looks like candyfloss. Candyfloss that is black and made out of pubes, that is. This he discovered the following morning. He screamed.

Secret 2: Lipstain.  Exposure Date: January 2010.  Location: The Prairies.

January was a bad month for The Mushroom, clearly. Not only did my Dad throw out her curl creme, but he also threw out this weird stuff that smells like table varnish and almonds mixed together. My Dad used to wax lyrical about the redness of The Mushroom’s lips, but how she never wore lipstick. She used to smile, with those red lips of hers, and look down demurely, thanking the heavens for Max Factor. My poor Dad. One day in January, he woke up with a glossy haired, red lipped wife, and the next, a pale lipped poodle.

This incident also led to lots of other things being thrown away (‘I didn’t think you used them!’, ‘Then why would they be in the bathroom?’, ‘Cos you hoard things! And by the way, what in the name of arse has happened to your hair?’), and that in turn has led to the agreement that if my Dad ever throws away ‘anything that looks like it could belong’ to The Mushroom, he gets his gonads kicked.

Secret 3: The Mono-Brow. Exposure Date:  Not yet exposed. 

My Dad knows that The Mushroom uses tweezers. He didn’t throw them out when he was doing his bathroom cull. What he doesn’t know, and I do cos I stayed with her and The Baby when he went to Qatar, is that without tweezers, The Mushroom actually resembles a Spanish waiter. I will name him José. 

My Dad has an inkling about José, as when The Mushroom was pregnant with The Baby she grew a small beard, so logic would have it that anyone that can grow a small beard is probably capable of growing a moustache, some impressive sideburns and a monobrow. I can vouch for the fact that yes, yes she is capable of growing these things, and that it is very much in my Dad’s interests to never throw out her tweezers.

The latest secret, however, was revealed just yesterday. It will take my Dad a while to recover.

My Dad had been for a run.

He staggered in, sat down, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked up at his wife. At first he smiled, and then he jumped.

Peering back at him, sitting on a chair, sewing on a button, was a woman in glasses.

“Hello, Grandma.” he said. “And would you like to tell me how long you’ve had those?”

The Mushroom looked down her nose over the top of her glasses, looking unamused.

“I’ve always had glasses.”

“I have known you for SEVENTEEN YEARS. I have never, in those seventeen years, seen you wear glasses. ”

“Don’t you like them?”

“Whether or not I like them is irrelevant, I’m just curious as to why you’ve apparently always had glasses but I’ve never seen you wear them. What’s wrong with your eyes?”

The Mushroom mumbled and took off her glasses, placing them on the table. My Dad promptly picked them up and put them on.

“Oh my God.” He took them off quickly and rubbed his eyes.

The Mushroom mumbled some more.

“So you don’t actually know what I look like?”

“I have a fair idea…”

“Why have you never told me you wear glasses? Why have you never told me that you CAN’T SEE?”

“Cos I look stupid in glasses.” she replied, and continued trying to sew on the button without them, which resulted in her stabbing her hand with the needle.

Humans. Odd odd odd McOdd. I wonder what would have happened had she introduced herself to my Dad all those years ago by saying, ‘Hello! I have hair like a poodle, normal colour lips, a beard, a moustache and a monobrow and I can’t see very well. Love me anyway.’

I think, by the way he strokes her face at night, that he probably would have.

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2 Responses to “What Lies Between Us…”

  1. hayley said

    awwwwww!!! too cute. and also….max factor make a lip stain??? am constantly on a quest for the perfect lip stain. more details please.

  2. notwavingbutironing said

    I have got sick of having to straighten my hair lately so I’ve been leaving it ‘au natural’, which means every time my husband sees me he sings, ‘Livin’ on a prayer’ by Bon Jovi. God, he’s hilarious…

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