Sandy's Say: David Jones
..."Okay, 'he replied, trying now to pacify me. "How WAS your day yesterday?"
"Let me think "I answered."First I did the ironing and three loads of washing, then I raked up leaves on the pavement and then I walked the dog and came home to cook dinner."
"You see, "he said, "This is exactly why I don't ask you how your day was. I find it all rather underwhelming."...
There will be understanding smiles from mothers on every continent who read Sandy James's account of being thought daggy and a complete idot by a teenage son.
For more of Sandy's deliciously humorous coloumns please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/sandys_say/
There was a time, once, long ago when my son thought that I was beautiful and perfect. I was the centre of his universe and he adored me. He was my constant, chatty shadow and he would do sweet, thoughtful things such as presenting me with a specially made painting or a jam jar full of flowers and weeds, as a token of his love.
One Saturday morning, during this reverential phase, my husband took our son shopping at the local department store which is called 'David Jones'. My birthday was coming up and, to make things easy for these non-shoppers, I had requested a new dressing gown, in any colour. My husband had chosen to shop at David Jones as it is a slightly more upmarket and, in keeping with this image, it is full of well groomed, attractive sales ladies.
Well, they had hardly gone when they were back. My little son came stomping indignantly into the hallway ahead of his father. He was angry and fed up so I asked him what was wrong.
"Daddy has been doing like this with the David Jones' ladies, " he said as he put on an artificial smile and fluttered his eyelashes at me. He was dobbing his father in for being polite, charming and slightly flirtatious with the sales ladies. He was disgusted by his father's apparent disloyalty. My husband and I did our best not to laugh. Ever since then, whenever someone in our family tries to gain an advantage or get their own way by false flattery or flirting we use the phrase, "Don't you come the David Jones with me."
As time moved on my son became slightly less enamoured of me. He began to notice the one or two very slight flaws which I have until we hit his teenage years where he largely now regards me as being daggy and a complete idiot. For the most part, I ignore this attitude, knowing that one day he will emerge from his tunnel of misconception and be amazed at how much I seem to have improved and caught up.
However, every now and then, he pushes me too far and I take umbrage and let him have it. Yesterday I was taking him to the station to catch the morning train to school. I don't know why he was in such a foul mood but he uncharacteristically threw his school bag onto the back seat, slammed the car door, sat down in the passenger seat in a huff and grunted at me to go. As I drove, I gave him a stern lecture about his unacceptable behaviour, telling him how he should not take me and his lift for granted or he might find himself walking. "You don't even ask me how my day was when I collect you," I pointed out.
"Okay, 'he replied, trying now to pacify me. "How WAS your day yesterday?"
"Let me think "I answered."First I did the ironing and three loads of washing, then I raked up leaves on the pavement and then I walked the dog and came home to cook dinner."
"You see, "he said, "This is exactly why I don't ask you how your day was. I find it all rather underwhelming." With this dismissive reply he hopped out of the car.
As he strolled nonchalantly towards the station, a breathy, pretty girl came bouncing along. "Wait up" she called out to him. He paused until she caught up and then they went off together, he with his head inclined towards her, giving her his full attention, laughing,, talking animatedly and using his piercing blue eyes to devilishly good effect.
The cheeky so-and-so had come over all David Jones.
