The Watermelon Saga

By 4 , , Permalink 0

It’s 9.09 pm. The house is all closed up. I’m settled in on the couch, watching yet another episode of The Secret Life of the American Teenager (so is Mr Posy, but he wont admit that) when the doorbell rings.

It can only be one person. Mr Posy looks out the front window – “It’s Ma”. I mutter something about only seeing her half an hour earlier at the hospital, and can’t she see that the doors are closed and the lights are off?

“She’s holding a watermelon.”

Mr Posy unlocks the door, and in a swift manoeuvre while he’s picking up PosyDog to stop her from escaping, in barges MIL, not only carrying a watermelon, but also a new umbrella and a can of spray deodorant.

I sit steadfastly on the couch while she bangs around in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards, checking the fridge and freezer (full) to make sure that I’m feeding her son adequately, and tsking over the unfolded laundry. I’m sure the bottle of Veuve in the fridge pleases her non-drinking self no end. I’m sure she’ll be even more pleased when I turn up at the hospital with said bottle of Fizz to pour down my tired, breastfeeding SIL’s throat to celebrate the arrival of Niece Posy.

“Kalinihta {ka-lee neek-tah}”, she says, hurrying past with an armful of plates and pots, which have somehow made it into my kitchen over the course of the week, courtesy of her coddling and food-pushing.

“Good night”, I reply, with a smile on my face, charming as always, silently cursing her supernatural ability to constantly interrupt during the most crucial points of my shows.

4 Comments
  • Dani
    October 22, 2010

    Hahaha I get danike

  • miss posy
    October 22, 2010

    Kalinihta = Good night 😉

  • Gayle
    October 22, 2010

    Erm. The watermelon I get. But who is it that she thinks smells?????!

    I think you need to invest in better block out curtains from the outside!

  • miss posy
    November 1, 2010

    Gayle – She regularly buys Mr Posy deodorant etc. It’s bizarre! I tried to pretend I wasn’t in on the weekend (I was passed out on the couch with a rotten headache), but she just kept knocking and ringing the doorbell and calling out until I got up and answered the door – and took a bag of groceries. One car was gone, so I thought she’d get the hint and leave, but no, she somehow knew I was home. *throws hands in the air*

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *