Negative Soundbyters – Good evening!! This is another mini milestone in the evolution of one of the most entertaining blogs out there – the 50th edition of Negative Soundbyte! I have a small confession to make however; my wife and I hosted a pre-birthday celebratory lunch (I turn 40 this coming weekend…keep dreaming Hoddy) on Saturday which turned from a lunch into a very large headache on the Sunday morning. It is no laughing matter combining a three-and-a-half month old with quite a substantial hangover (because frankly Rafe doesn’t give a crap that it feels like somebody is drilling a hole into my left eyeball while another clobbers me over the head with a wooden mallet; it isn’t going to stop him from firing up the air raid siren just to keep my honest), but thankfully Mrs H came to my rescue (There is no “I” in Team Hoddy ). However my errant behaviour put the skids on my creative writing abilities, so I decided to publish my post this evening, as opposed to trying to write on Sunday still under the influence with two fingers and one eye open. I know you were all waiting in breathless anticipation of this week’s post, so here it is…finally!
Before we head to this week’s anecdote, anything of geopolitical significance to report….
Other than my birthday in a few days, there doesn’t seem to be an awful lot going on. In my homeland an investigative journalist has just released a book called “The President’s Keepers” detailing the nature of the corrupt relationships that our esteemed president has with certain unsavoury characters, who are all bent on doing his bidding to the point where it feels like South Africa is turning into a mafia state. In one instance it turns out that Jay Zee was actually on the payroll of a company controlled by one of these nefarious individuals – and when I mean its “payroll” I don’t mean of the brown paper packet variety, I mean actually on its electronic payroll system as “J Zuma” – and this four months into his presidency of the country! Seriously you ask? Seriously I tell you. The book has so many explosive revelations about No One and how corruption has torn apart institutions that are supposed to look after the nation and its people, that at times it is difficult to comprehend. How did it come to this? And true to form, the organs of state security are now in the throes of laying charges against the book’s author and have demanded that he, his publisher and those distributing the book pull all copies and desist from publishing any more editions. Rightfully he slowly raised the middle figure while sales have sky rocketed. It is frightening stuff, but a gripping read nonetheless.
Let’s move onto something happier and light hearted….
Big Love
Hoddy X
Solo trips with the buggy – and Rafe.
I have only ever really flown solo with Rafe when he has been safely ensconced in the Baby Bjorn. He would slot in neatly against my chest and invariably would be asleep within a few paces of the front door. We would go on expeditions into nearby parks; he would snooze (with an occasional grunt and some dribble) and I would talk to him about life and what it was like to be a “New Dad”. It was chilled; and it was impossible for him to go anywhere but where I trod.
So it was with a certain sense of trepidation that Mrs H asked me to pop out to the shops to buy a few ingredients for Saturday’s lunch – and “Would you please take Rafe so that I can concentrate on getting the pea puree and scallops prepared?”. I was like “Um…er….you mean in the buggy?” There was a light drizzle falling on Streatham at the time and I saw some potential wriggle room “But it’s raining and he might get cold….” Mrs H took a look outside and dismissed it instantly…”Put the plastic rain cover on – you and he will be fine!”.
Our buggy is also not the smallest baby carrier ever designed. It’s full of levers to collapse it in various ways and strapping Rafe into it is pretty much like an astronaut readying himself for lift-off from Cape Canaveral. The two most important features as far as I was concerned – and Mrs H - was the tether to ensure I was attached to it – and therefore Rafe - at all times and the brake; I was instructed to engage the break no matter the degree of pavement I happened to be on. Stop. Engage break. With those “guidelines” ringing in my ears Little Hoddy and I went out into the big wide world – alone!
Thankfully the pavements are nice and wide where I live so I am managed to navigate my way to Marks-and-Sparks without incident. We dutifully waited for all the Green Men; looked both ways multiple times when crossing the roads and gently weaved our way through the Saturday morning traffic…(“foot” traffic that is!)
It’s a new M&S Foodhall and I cruised around it like an old hand. I followed Mrs H’s list to the letter, managed the basket and didn’t bump into a single customer or knock over any displays. I was the “cool” in that cucumber. “You got this Hoddy!” And then it came to paying.
I think it was over-confidence that lead me to the self-checkout. Usually there is a hiatus whenever I try and interact with those machines (Just ask Mrs H) but I thought that given my success up to this point I would breeze through it.
I had bought my own bag (being environmentally aware) so I placed it in the bagging area. The machine then asked me “Have you bought your own bag?” I pressed "Yes" and began scanning my items. That was a mistake because the machine shot back “Unexpected item in bagging area…” and promptly stalled with the words “Await Assistance”. At exactly this moment, the bundle tucked in the buggy began to stir. I didn’t panic; I had spotted a cashier who came over, punched a code on the screen and I was off-and-running again. But it was not fast enough.
No sooner had she disappeared than Rafe decided it was time to start winding up the air raid siren. I started trying to push the buggy back-and-forth with one hand to calm him while scanning my purchases and placing them in the bag with the other. In my haste I put the second bottle of wine in the bag without scanning it. Ouch. A flashing red light and in bold print. “Wrong weight detected. Seek assistance.” My assistance was nowhere to be seen. I had a baby who was now in full voice; a half-packed bag of groceries; a lot of professional looking Mums giving me “that amateur” look; a computer that refused to yield and large drops of perspiration beginning to form on my brow. I was very much back to being the “New-Dad” at this point!
After what seemed like an eternity the cashier returned and released my bottle of wine. I managed to pay without further incident and beat a hasty retreat for the front door and into the cool winter’s morning.
I thought I would go and have a coffee at this hip new breakfast establishment just up the road from Marksies to calm my nerves. No sooner had I sat down with my Flat White than I was told that my buggy was blocking the waitrons from circulating and serving. Tail between my legs I made for a forlorn figure as I trudged back to the homestead. That said I did manage to get the little man home safely with all the ingredients for the lunch time festivities, so I didn’t fail completely I guess!
OUT :)
Pic of the Week
The only photo for such an occasion. LOVE HIM XXX
