I've just taken a shower and washed my hair, but I perhaps I need not have bothered. I'm thinking of getting a perfumed handkerchief to wave in front of my face like those dandified fops of the eighteenth century; and if I'm going to do that, then I might as well go the whole hog and shove my feet into a pair of buckled clod-hoppers, and stick a powdered bouffant beehive wig on my head (thus invalidating the hair washing in which I have just engaged).
The reason I am after a perfumed piece of cloth is there is a pervading nostril-buster of a stink infesting my home. The other day, Mr Bingells saw a mouse, so he duly set out some bait. The rotten rodent has taken the bait, realised its error, and thought with a dastardly mocking laugh: Ha-ha! You might have poisoned me, but I will have the last laugh by expiring in a place you will not find me!
Okay, Mouse. Kudos to you for your fiendish foiling, but please finish with the putrefaction process already!
Regular followers of the blog will know I'm a keen trivia player, and a gun player at that (provided there are no sport questions). Anyway, my kids' school held a fund-raising trivia night the other night. Naturally, my family formed a team. However, a few days ago, my oldest told me he was jumping ship to join his Modern History class and their teacher. To look at my son, one would believe he is the product of the love of Mr Bingells and me: he is the spitting image of his father, and has a great mind for mathematical calculations (like his father), and can spell pretty much any word thrown at him (like his mother, although my son didn't know how to spell 'lozenge' when he texted me the other week about his sore throat). But this treacherous act of defection, one that tore asunder a winning combination, made me wonder could he perhaps have been the result of an unholy coupling between Judas Iscariot and Yoko Ono. So I said, 'Okay, Miss might teach Modern History, but your mother REMEMBERS it!'
So we attended the school, en famille, and my oldest hailed his teammates. Mr Bingells introduced himself to the teacher, and told her, 'Your team should be called The Top Floor Elevators, because you're going DOWN!' On a side note, Mr Bingells might consider writing some sledges for the Australian cricket team.
As well as Mr Bingells, our fourteen-year-old, and me, our team included a mate of Mr Bingells, a friend of mine (and her son who is a friend to our fourteen-year-old), and another mate of our youngest son (same age). It is necessary to have the younger generation represented at these events, mainly for the modern pop culture questions. This proved a good strategy because my kid's mate is a Harry Potter geek who was able to name not just the number of books published in the series, but he could list all the books in chronological order, thus earning us a hearty eight points. I am not ashamed to say I got a question about the Kardashians wrong; it was to list the Kardashian/Jenner siblings from oldest to youngest, and I felt like writing: 'Who fucking cares? They shouldn't be breeding, anyway.'
I did make a few mental notes for the next game in which I partake along the lines of: If it's a question about artists streamed on Spotify, Ed Sheeran is a good bet for the answer.
The rounds - with the exception of General Knowledge - were actually a tad difficult. However, in the final round, the Music one, we were able to redeem and fatten up our points tally. Snippets of songs were played. I was able to guess most of them. The kids running the night played the sound bytes again. One of the numbers was Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough by Michael Jackson. I don't doubt I've mentioned it in the past, but my fourteen-year-old is a dancer. For giggles, he stood up and did an impromptu dance, much to the delight of the crowd. The kid hosting the show suggested he get up on the stage of the school hall. In a movie, the 'dancer' would demur modestly, having little self-confidence. This is not a movie. My kid gleefully mounted the stage as though to it was an inherent entitlement, and danced some more. Not to be outdone, the team of teachers joined him, but they did a different dance (naturally, I will say that my kid's dance was the best). It was the highlight of the evening. What a fun night out we had, and I'm not sure what the final figures were, but I'm guessing over $1,000.00 was raised for the rescue helicopter.
Oh, and the other highlight for me was my team beating my seventeen-year-old's team. Heh-heh. Okay, I will admit our win over that team was due to the extra points awarded to my younger son for dancing on the stage, and my older son's team had the victory on points.
I think the winning team was the one comprised of teaching staff. However, had there been less questions about Kardashians and Spotify-streaming, I'm sure the winning team would have comprised the Bingells clan, and their friends.
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