What Bingells Did (kinda like that book 'What Katy Did')

Today I did the following:

1. Braved entering my son's room without the benefit of a Hazmat all-in-one to dust, vacuum, and change the sheets.  I am surprised my son has been able to exist in that cesspit, um, room for as long as he has without succumbing to some virulent strain of the plague.  Perhaps he has become inured, as children who live by the Ganges are able to play in it but woe betide a tourist.  I've seen the Ganges, but of course I didn't go splashing about in it.  I stayed quite healthy in India until about my second or third last day.  I had been sight-seeing with a guide my age, and we sat on the roof of an emporium and decided to have a bottle of beer.  I had been meticulous about not having my face under the shower, and only brushing my teeth with bottled water.  What I had not bet on was being given my share of the beer in a grimy cup.  Well, I didn't know it was grimy at the time because the beer kind of hid that.  Holy God, did I suffer the next day!  Badly.  I have had mild stomach upsets when travelling before, but this one required a visit from the local physician.   And when I was being driven to Jaipur, I had to keep telling the driver to pull over so I could hurl out the door.  I apologised, and he replied, 'Don't worry, Madam.  I see this many times.'  An ugly story, albeit gruesomely funny in hindsight, but not one I will labour on in this blog post; perhaps another time. But yeah, my son's room is a biohazard.  Not at the moment because his long-suffering mother vacuumed and mopped and wiped over the surfaces with a mixture of white vinegar and eucalyptus oil.  It will remain relatively clean for, I guess, the next twelve hours before it is back to its previous pestiferous state.

2.  Suffered with a sore throat and blocked nose.  But praise be, I have found a pharmacy in town that doesn't make me feel like I am operating a meth lab in the garden shed every time I purchase a medication containing pseudoephedrine.  They asked did I want the chemist brand, to which I replied an emphatic no because it has to be Codral.  Nothing else, short of a plumber, will unclog my besnotted nose.  They asked me did I take any other medication on a regular basis, which I do not.  They then asked me to come to the front counter and pay for my tablets.  What they did not ask me to do was show them my driver's licence, which pisses me off and makes me want to grab the clerks and shake them, if my symptoms did not leave me as weak as an anaemic fairy's urine.  Glory be and ten packets of bunny legs, as my friend used to say. 

3.  Marvelled at  how swiftly children grow.  My 14yo invited three friends over today to celebrate his birthday.  I also had cause to marvel at how quickly two large pizzas can disappear when left on a table in front of four teenage boys.  I am no short-arse, but my son and at least one of his friends are now taller than me.  I still recall holding my little one over my shoulder when he was a baby patting his back as he yowled with displeasure at something, and now I can rest MY head on HIS shoulder! I started to wonder about one of his friends, and whether he could have been my son swapped at birth instead of the voracious eating machine I appear to be raising.  This particular kid was correcting other kids' English, and explaining the meaning of words they had used incorrectly, particularly 'ironic'.  (Oh, if only he was around when Alanis Morriset was recording her ill-named ditty).  It got me wondering were he and the child I see off to school every morning perhaps changelings swapped at birth.  And I look at the kid I've been raising, and look at his father, and there is no mistaking his parentage. People have said to me, 'Well, nobody's can ever accuse you of cheating'. 

4. Listened to what the kids were saying.  Don't worry,  I haven't turned into some soft type who campaigns and says 'Listen to the kids!' (I have a theory some of these kids out there need a good kick in the date).  No.  I sat in the next room trying to hear what they were saying because there's no better way to get realistic dialogue than to listen to others' conversations.  I cannot just go up to some kids and say, 'Tell me, what colloquial vernacular is bandied about by the young folk of today?'.  The kids would think, 'Creepy old bag at twelve o'clock', and back away.  Yeah, so what I do is just relax and listen to others when I'm in a public place, or if I need some up-to-date slang for younger characters in my work, have a look at 'Dolly' magazine in my local library.

5.  Started editing my latest work.  So far, so good.  I've only read about two chapters, but I'm happy with the improvements I'm making.