23 February 2013

It's just a blog post; it's no big deal.

The Burp's in town for a couple of days so I whizzed over to her place today to drag her and The Burpmother orff to see a duck auction.

(A duck auction is an actual thing. Local 'identities' and 'celebrities' decorated wooden ducks and they were sold and auctioned off to support women's refuges.)

So we were walking towards the auction rooms, as I believe they are known in the biz, when The Burp indicated her mother and said, "You know she's taken up bridge."

What I meant to say: "Why not? I've heard it's a great game and I'm sure you'd meet many like-minded, similar people at the get-togethers."

What I said: "Well, you're certainly the right age."

Later, after we'd surveyed the duckies, and I'd missed out on purchasing a lovely pair dressed sweetly and demurely in paisley, we stopped for a drink at the coffee shop. As we got up to leave The Burp made a comment about her "cheap bag". It was then I noticed the jazzy, beaded shoulder bag she had with her.

What I meant to say: "That is a very bright and cheery and attractive accessory, as it happens. But it's rare to see you without your other, distinctive bag which has become a part of your signature style, if I may be so bold as to say so."

What I said: "Where's your nice bag?"

(People comment on how I so often wear flat shoes but when your foot is in your mouth as often as mine, stilettos are a health hazard.)


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