And The Trousers Hit The Floor …

Hi All

I’m wondering how many females receive the answer they require when asking a male, ‘How do I look?’ or ‘Do I look OK in this?’

That was the question that began my day yesterday. ‘Do I look OK?’

If you remember, the last time we ‘spoke,’ I told you that we were taking Richard’s mum, Betty, to the hospital for her six-monthly check-up on her weakening knee? Obviously I couldn’t wear my normal daily attire so a little effort was put into scouring through my wardrobes for something suitable. I chose black leggings, a lovely long flowery top (pink roses) and a pink cardigan. I polished off my look with my posh three-quarter length coat. It was cold yesterday (and today) and I figured with my state of health right now I’d better keep warm. I realise I’m sounding like I’m a hundred years old but …

Richard trotted up the stairs and we met on the landing. ‘Do I look OK?’ I said.

He viewed me silently for a moment, always a bad sign because he always speaks immediately and always without thinking.

‘It’s only the hospital you don’t have to dress up,’ he said.

‘I haven’t dressed up,’ I said.

‘Well you’re more dressed up than usual,’ he said.

‘Well of course I’m more dressed up than usual,’ I said, through gritted teeth, ‘because usually I’m cleaning up chicken shit and rolling round the garden! Do I look OK? Tidy?’

He looked me up and down again. ‘Well, yeah, you look tidy, like you are going to a posh funeral or something.’

Idiot!!!

I rethought the coat and changed it to a more casual looking one … but, as a form of rebellion, dug out the pink shoes, which Richard hates with a vengeance. Ha! Posh funeral. Any more comments like that and it’ll be his funeral and I’ll be wearing the whole ensemble.

With Betty loaded into the front seat of the tiny UP and me shoved in the back, we set off. They chatted away – well Betty chatted away. I couldn’t hear what she was saying and Richard gave the impression of listening but I know him and I knew that the ‘lights were on but know one was home,’ as he concentrated on the road and traffic.

We took the wrong turning into the hospital and spent valuable time scouting for the orthopaedic department, as per Betty’s instructions. Richard abandoned us in the car and went walkabout attempting to find orthopaedics. He returned twenty minutes later, through a cloud burst, looking half-drowned and about to go off on one and said, ‘It’s NOT the orthopaedic department, MOTHER, it’s Out Patients. Why do you always get these things wrong?’ Betty fumbled around for her disabled parking pass and pretended not to hear.

Eventually we found the right department and Richard evicted us from the car and screeched off to find a parking place. Are you beginning to see into his character yet? See how the smallest things throw him? Haha. Betty linked her arm in mine and off we trotted – well – not exactly – she does have a buggered up knee and two metal hip replacements. She’s pretty bionic – our Betty. We settled in the waiting room for a bit and then I toddled off to find Richard who was just entering the building having parked the car in the next county. He’s also hopeless at finding parking spaces. And he ALWAYS has to reverse into a space.

The consultant was ‘behind,’ apparently and we had to wait quite a while. Betty stressed. Richard stared blankly ahead. And I had a nice conversation with a man in a cowboy hat who looked like the American country singer, Alan Jackson, whom I simply adore. I had been nominated to go in with Betty as her spokesperson and intelligent being in residence. That’s a joke. But you only have to fool some of the people some of the time, don’t you? Betty’s consultant was lovely. L.O.V.E.L.Y. Truly. I have had some experiences with these ‘professionals’ and many of them have had humour bypasses. I say something that I think is hilarious and it washes straight over them. But THIS man was super. So friendly. So super. So lovely … you get the picture? Joking apart, I do get it. I do understand that these consultants, doctors, nurses etc have to deal with the general public and lets face it, the general public can be moronic at times, yeah? I couldn’t do it. I’d murder someone and wham them through the nearest window yelling, ‘Don’t be such a frigging, pathetic tool, so your leg’s hanging off … you have another.’

Mr R (I’ll call him that) put up Betty’s hip and knee X Rays on his computer screen and delved into simple, layman’s terms regarding her condition. He made lovely little jokes along the way and had us in stitches … not literally. He asked to examine the knee and whoosh, Betty sprang to her feet saying, ‘I’ll have to take my trousers down because I can’t get my trouser leg up past my swollen knee.’

This was the only warning we had as her checked, polyester trousers hit the floor, faster than Usain Bolt, and I was presented with her bottom in my face. Mr R and I exchanged glances. I think I fell a little in love with him at this point. Well you would, wouldn’t you? And thinking about it I think he rather liked me. He kept having a sneaky glance across at me when Betty was on the couch having a bloody great needle driven into her right knee. He could have just been checking that I was not going to hit the deck at the sight of his big needle?

In conclusion, Betty is now on the waiting list to have her knee replaced. She will have to go back to see Mr R as a pre-op appointment and I shall have to go with her. I mean, who would expect a sweet, (?) eighty-two-year-old lady to have to answer all those complicated questions on her own? It’s the least I can do, right?

And I’ll probably put a little more thought into my appearance because I certainly do not want Mr R to think that I’ve stopped off at the hospital on the way to a funeral. I think he quite liked my pink, rose top. As far as I could tell, unlike Richard, Mr R had exquisite taste.

Have a lovely weekend. Catch you Monday.

Take care my lovelies x

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10 thoughts on “And The Trousers Hit The Floor …

  1. LOL, I’m not even sure if I should comment really because the last time I even mentioned this subject on another persons blog they went on a huge rant and accused me of being some sort of sexist pig and we’ve since not spoken…… 😦

    I have always tended to speak first and think later. I also tend to speak as honestly and openly as possible because that is the way I was brought up. Sadly being a man and having the equivalent diplomacy skills of a lump of stone doesn’t mix well with an honest and blunt speaking persona – the result of which is that I frequently upset people even when I don’t intend to.

    Now if my wife asks me what her hair looks like or what a certain item of clothing looks like on her or what the meal tastes like that she’d just spent hours preparing I will generally give my honest opinion. My somewhat feeble mind believing that why ask a question of somebody if you don’t really want to get their honest opinion. I think after ten years together my wife now appreciates that there are some benefits to my bluntness in that when I do say something looks or tastes great she know I damn well mean it. Sadly it also means if I say something looks or tastes awful I also mean that too 😉 I know many, many men who unlike me, apply a certain degree of thought before speaking and many will often err on the side of caution and give a rather vague or non genuine response. I don’t quite understand the point of saying ‘oh your hair looks lovely darling’ if in fact it looks like she’s just been dragged though a hedge backwards by a pack of rabied dogs. However I should point out that I don’t just come and out and say things like this but if anybody asks my opinion on something they will get my genuine thoughts. I’m not sure why this would be considered sexist etc though as the same applies to whether the person asking is male or female. I’ve upset a fair few blokes in my time.

    I think for me the best thing is to remain silent but sadly that doesn’t seem to work with E as if I try to remain quiet or take even one second of thought before replying she instantly takes it to mean I don’t like something anyway so I can’t really win! 🙂

    I’m sure she will be along later to put her perspective…….

    Ian

    PS. I always reverse into a space too, you see men really are better drivers…..;-) (I’ll get my coat)

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    • Hahahahahaha!! And there I was agreeing with every syllable about honesty – why ask for an opinion if you don’t WANT an opinion – and then you go and mention the male/female driving thing! Shame on you! Do you hear me, Ian? Shame! I shall have a VERY serious word with Elaine about this. You’re not a Scorpio, are you? We are brutally honest – but fair. But then I would say that haha x PS Richard has now purchased the ‘proper’ brake bits and is almost ready to try again. Watch this space. I’ll be whacking it on a trailer and dragging it across to Lincolnshire (or is it North Norfolk) See, I’d only get lost proving what a crap driver I am! x

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      • Yep, North Lincolnshire and I’m an Aries, not sure what the charactistics of an Aries are actually, must look them up.

        Fingers crossed for Richard and his brakes. 🙂

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  2. Jeremy Clarkson is an Aries ……… which pretty much says it all really 😀

    Do you know Jenni, my driving is only bad when Mud is beside me and I think that is because I just know (I wish I could bold and underline that ‘know’) he is finding fault with everything from the way I fasten my seat belt to the way I turn the ignition key!!! Well sunshine if you don’t like my driving DON’T (bold, italics and underline that one as well) have that last scotch, then I wouldn’t have to drive.

    I remember when we went to pickup the brand, spanking new Jap truck. As his nibbs had a leased truck which only he could drive, he had no option than to let me drive the new vehicle home. All the way to the dealership – that would be some 25 miles – he kept telling me that I mustn’t drive the truck like a car because it wasn’t a car and if I drove it like a car, I would probably kill myself at the first roundabout!!!! So there I was scared to death, with £14k worth of brand new truck at my fingertips, Mud following me in the leased truck, convinced I wouldn’t make it passed the first of several roundabouts! Suffice to say I drove it home without mishap – in fact, now that I come to think about it, ALL (b/i/u) the mishaps we have had with that vehicle have occurred whilst Mud was driving – not that I’m (b/i/u) saying anything about male/female drivers!

    Then we got Annie for me. The first time I got behind the wheel Mud said: “You mustn’t drive a Series Land Rover like a pick up truck because if you do …….”

    As for the honesty thing, on the whole I agree but that said but there are times when discretion is the better part of valour and one of these is when your wife is trying something on in a Supermarket changing room and complains that the item doesn’t look right or fit properly, DO NOT (b/i/u) tell her that the reason for this is because she is fat, as such moments of honesty are NOT conducive to marital harmony! Ever!

    E
    x

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  3. Mud is Richard! I’m sure we are sharing the same bloke. Does he go missing for long periods of time?? Richard drives everywhere, always, unless we go out visiting (once in a blue moon) and then he drinks and I drive and he instructs me all the way home, turning on and off wipers, telling me to indicate etc etc. I won’t say what I tell him because they would throw me off WordPress but needless to say by the time we get home I’m driving my way and he is quiet !!! Amazing. x

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    • Lol, to be fair, Mud doesn’t drink and drive either, it’s just something he wont do but I get a tad annoyed when he then acts like a driving instructor on those rare occasions when I have to drive with him as a passenger. To be honest I just wont do it, except in an emergency!

      I should also clarify (after re-reading my comment) that none of the mishaps in the truck have ever been down to Muds’ driving, as he is one of the safest drivers I know. But you can guarantee that had I returned home with the back bumper stove in, his first reaction would have been ‘What did you do to cause another driver to drive into you?”

      Mind you, I can see his point, to a degree as out of the two of us, I’m the one who wrote off a car but that wasn’t my fault, it was just one of those things! Honest! 🙂

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  4. Lol, Jennie-Gail! Totally with you on the whole ‘is this ok?’ thing. Just want to know if it’s appropriate…but, really, what do they know? Unless he’s what’s’isname Wok?, how would he know? My hubby has no fashion, colour or taste sense. I rarely ask. Have to say that he does often offer the compliment, though. He’s good that way. I think he fancies me, actually. You know that way, like you with your consultant…well, your ma-in-law’s technically. Sometimes you just know. Well I just knew 50 years ago, and I just know now. He does…he fancies me! Not your mil’s consultant…my hubby!
    Christine
    cicampbellblog.wordpress.com

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    • Haha You DO know you are beginning to sound like me, don’t you?? It’s brilliant that Richard takes no notice of my clothes because I just buy what I want, shove them in the wardrobe and wear them whenever and he never asks if they are new. Occasionally he’ll say, ‘That’s nice.’ And it will be something I’ve had for ages and worn a hundred times. It’s like he’s never seen it before. Men. Glad your hubby fancies you hahahaha xx

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