Friday, October 9, 2009

conversations in the dead of the night

3:45 am.
our room is dark and silent; everyone in the city (bar the drunks and the homeless people) is asleep. then, from the portacot next to our bed a clear bell-like voice rings out:
"HEY GUYS, . . . . guuuuuys, I lub puppies. . . . dadda, dadda, DADDA . . . . i lub puppies . . . (dadda responds unintelligibly with a muffled groan). 'i lub flowers, and puppies. i lub GREY puppies. s'vewy dark dadda. vewy dark.' (Dadda: 'shhhhh, talking quietly, roofie and peter are asleep). the voice in the portacot gets louder: 'yass dadda, evvybody seeping'. (Mum: 'shhhhh, quiet quiet. its night time; time to sleep). 'lying down knickers on, bed dadda (i am lying down, wearing my knickers in bed dadda). (Dadda: 'mmmhhmmm). 'DADDA, DADDA . . . KNICKERS . . . BED ( . . . . got no legs dadda. scawwy cow got no legs (back to the staghead from edinburgh). can't wun; can't walk. (combined parents: 'shhhhhh, stop talking bubba, time to sleep'). "bummel bees, watch bummel bees dadda?' . . . (collective groan from parental bed) 'bummel bee sore bottom' (referring to character in movie who loses his sting and has it replaced with a teeny weeny pink plastic toy sword) . . .

the conversation continued in this manner until she finally crashed out, about half an hour later.

next morning (well, later on THAT morning), i was walking out to the kitchen with her to make coffee with amelia chattering away nineteen to the dozen, and me responding monosyllabically. she turned and looked at me, pointed THE finger and demanded: 'mumma, TALK AMELIA!!!'

i think that was the first time in my life i have ever been told off for NOT talking . . . i wonder why?

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