You’re just like gran, he said.
It wasn’t meant in a good way. Not as in wise and warm and wonderful, or as in utterly adoring of The Boy who Can Do No Wrong – even when he does.
It was a disparaging comment, a barb uttered because, at the Sunday tea table, after he’d scoffed all the gravy that I make JUST LIKE my mother’s (in a very good way), I’d said: “Hell’s bells, that cheese is strong.”
At first, I was puzzled. Comment on the Gorgonzola? What could be wrong with that?
I said as much. He guffawed. He’d meant the hell’s bells bit, which is, I am now informed, just what she says ALL THE TIME and is so fuddy-duddy. Which I’ve a good mind to tell his gran. She might start to realise he has feet of clay.
He then went on to list lots of other things that I say and do which are just like her and irritate him no end.
Well, excuse me if I AM like the woman that spawned me. Who else would I be like? Vera ruddy Lynn?
I am genetically programmed to be irritating and to nag and to worry just as she still does with me, even though I’m nearly 52 years old – and to say things like hell’s bells (even add ‘and buckets of blood’ from time to time).
I have inherited the need to utter the odd ruddy and guffaw and ye gods, call belisha beacons belika beashons and Tizer Booty Emmy (long story, that; dates back to my mother’s mother).
True, there are many times when I irritate myself, so like her do I sound. When I stop myself mid-stream because I realise I’m on motherism remote control.
Will there come a day when I iron pants and socks and do my housework every Thursday, rain or shine? I hope not, but maybe it’s inevitable. And anyway, it could be worse. For every one of the odd things she does and says, there are a million brilliant ones.
So, back to the hell’s bells. What’s wrong with that? I ought to have uttered it in initials-only format, said: “HB this cheese is strong,” that would, ND, have been dubbed acceptably contemporary by our young arbiter of cool. In fact, he might have copied it. Sent it into cyber-circulation.
I quite like some initial-speak, like BTW and TBH.
But LOL I absolutely hate, because it makes me think of a big fat tongue lolling out of a mouth, not unlike that Rolling Stones logo. But mainly I hate it because David Cameron kept lolling at NOTW’s Rebekah Brooks and thinking it was hip.
Mother hasn’t heard of any of these and really I must ask her what she thinks they stand for. There’s got to be a column in it.