because none of us is fucking up like we think we are, is what i'm trying to say

Tuesday, 16 March 2010

Disappointed in Derby.

Mama came on the webcam, looking all kinds of solemn.

"Look, Laura. We got our copy of TALLULAH! today..." she said.

"Ooooh! That was fast!" I enthused, all smiley and happy and positive. Mama had been so excited to see what I had been working on, and she had enjoyed the bits I had read out to her over the webcam last week. I dropped my smile, though, when I realised Mama was neither smiley nor happy nor positive back.

"Laura," she said, and I thought to myself STOP SAYING MY NAME LIKE THAT. "It's very rude."

"Rude?" I said, shocked. Well. Okay. Maybe not shocked. But I did warn her.

"Yes Laura. Rude. I don't think I should show your father this... It's a bit of blue for the dads, but maybe not for this dad."

"Oh," I said. I had mentioned that perhaps Papa should let sleeping lions lie. Lay. Whatever the saying is. I do say the words frigging off at one point, that much is true. "Well, you ordered another five copies that I was going to post today. Do you still want them?"

Mama paused. "Well... yes. I've ordered them now. But. Well. I don't know who I can give them to. I don't think my sisters should see this either."

"You are kidding me!" I laughed. "It isn't that bad!"

"Laura! You talk about a boy getting his hand in your knickers on a bus!"

"THAT IS A FICTIONAL STORY MAMA!" I cried. And then I blushed.

"Well regardless, LAURA. You and I have the same sense of humour. But to everyone else it's just... it's just dirty. I think I'm a little disappointed in you."

Well you raised me, I thought.
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