Thursday, April 2, 2009

Flirting by Numbers

I was not sure what to write about this week, as it has been a fairly slow news day in our house. There have been no (major) injuries to report, no real discord of note, no gossip. Mate learnt to say thank you, well what he actually said was “Ta bob”. He used to always end every garbled sentence with “bob”, and this became his nickname for a while, but the thanks were new. I know there is a whole “Ta versus Thank you” argument and the Thank you camp bristle at Ta, but I would rather my children express their thanks aged 2, than remain silent, and say a very nice Thank you aged 3.

There was one incident with the Mum’s at school. Alpha Mum left her son with me for 10 minutes on Tuesday. That’s right, with me, The Dad, the Odd one out, the colour blind fashionista. I am not making this up just to fill space, it’s true, I didn’t imagine it, it really happened.

She needed to get away quickly for some urgent Yummy Mummy-type appointment (hair, nails, gym, who knows), and asked if I would watch Julian, and take him into Nursery, if they ever bothered to open the doors. There were other Mums available for this task, admittedly not Premier League Mums, just the 2nd Division ones that I am allowed to talk to, but she still picked me to look after this precious cargo. For those 10 minutes, my two could have been building weapons of mass destruction for all I knew or cared, I was looking after Alpha Son. I kept all ruffians away from him (including, nay, especially my own), and escorted him into Nursery safely and in one piece.

I spent the rest of the morning basking in the glow that I may have cracked it, and made it into the big time. Could the group that every Mum wants to be seen with, actually be welcoming me into their midst. I realise my invite would only be out of a sense of charity and bemusement, as I had been on great form the last few weeks. I had not told them any of my stories from the collection my Wife calls “Oh my God you didn’t?” I had cut down my swearing to a “not within sight of the school” level, and I also had not trod on any of the children, not strictly true as I did tread on Mate once, but I just pretended his back teeth were coming through, and they must be playing him up, poor love.

I had also started trying a new tactic that I picked up from the National Geographic channel. It was about Lions, and the tactics they used when hunting a herd of Gnu (these animals must have been right at the back of the name giving queue). The Lions would not attack all the Gnu at once, they would pick them off one at a time, until their appetites were sated. I guess the moral of the story was, that even the most powerful of creatures could not expect to take on an entire herd and win, the trick was to take them out one at a time. Flirting by Numbers was born.

I am told that I can be quite charming and funny when I try (if you are into a bit of rough that is), so I dusted off the cobwebs from my flirting head, a la Worzel Gummidge, and proceeded with the plan. I would pick one Mum, and use all the wit, humour, and flattery at my disposal to charm them, but only for 2 days. Then I would move onto my next victim, I mean Mum. I figured this would confuse them enough to miss the attention I had bestowed upon them, and thereby seek it, thus falling into my carefully laid trap. It was a cunning plan, and I figured even Baldrick must have got it right eventually. One of the phrases Dawn hates me using the most is “A broken clock is right twice a day”. Well I was that broken clock, and my time was a coming.

My plan went well, I swear at one stage Alpha Mum 2.0 (a younger more streamlined version, with more pointless gadgets) fluttered her eyelashes at me, and was that a trace of moistness in her eyes. Actually it wasn’t. The nanny picked her son up at lunchtime, due to her boss’s severe Hay fever attack, never mind.

On the whole though, all seemed to be working well, I had been receiving a few more smiles, it might have been my imagination, but there seemed to be an extra whiff of expensive perfume in the air, all was good.

Anyway, I returned to school for the pickup, ready to make my acceptance speech, and take my rightful place with the Elite. I could not have read the situation more wrong. Alpha Mum completely blanked me, and joined the rest of the “Witches of Eastwick”. Apparently her appointment was with her accountant, who had advised her that she would need to start making some cut-backs, and skiing twice a year would no longer be possible. I was now no longer keen to remind her that I had done a sterling job looking after her son that morning. I backed away from the gaggle, and kept quiet.

After all, who wants to be remembered as the person that enabled her to receive bad news?


Russ said...

Hey man, half the battle is knowing when to keep quiet!

Jared said...

Wow...Alpha Mum doen't sound like a person I would like to hang with. Hell, anyone nicknamed Alpha Mum has gotta hae their issues. :D