Even though they are in their mid-70’s they managed to exhaust our main tourist spots in less than a week and so for the remaining three weeks the highlight of their stay was visiting either Woolworths or Bunning’s. I can perhaps brag that our hill top home with its stunning scenery of Bowling Green National Park and the imposing Mt Elliot could be considered as a rather selective, if miniscule, tourist spot, but apart from the comings and goings of kangaroos in care, there isn’t a lot to keep visitors occupied for any length of time
I’m from England (yes a POM but working on being a Australian it’s only my inability to say G’day that is holding me back) and so during the past 13 years of being married to Albert, it has been a battle for me to understand them. However, every doggy has his day and I managed to get back at them during their visit here. How, you may well ask. Well, my wonderful dentist is in the process of fixing my wibbly smile and during the in-laws first week here, I was fitted with ‘appliances' (I’m guessing my dentist didn’t tell me what the real name of these contraptions were just in case I ran screaming to the hills) Anyway, after my jaws were suitably wired, they were forever saying pardon when I spoke or just guessed what I was lisping about. I found that during this time I could get away with a multitude of sins without anyone being aware of what I was doing. Such as swearing, telling people off, swearing, pronouncing words incorrectly and swearing. Yes, I swore a LOT. These appliances are seriously uncomfortable, it kind of feels like you’ve forgotten to take a couple of forks out of your mouth after eating. OMG EATING!!!!!!! Of course we had visitors so the pantry and fridge were stuffed full of edible goodies. Barbara my mother-in-law is a first rate cook and took over the kitchen during her stay which is inevitable, as she knows she is in the presence of one of the world’s worst domestic science failures.
OH the ANGUISH…………… forget about all the obvious stuff I can’t eat, such as everything except for soup, BUT forgoing the ‘nibbles’ whilst drinking beer and playing snooker (yes, guess what Albert got for his birthday) is absolutely tortuous. I’ve never looked at salted peanuts with such loving intensity. Oh and whilst we are on the subject of loving intensity, Albert isn’t game for a good snog anymore.
I just can’t think why not. "Givsh ush a kish darlink"