I need more practice

I’m still crook, so I’m just going to share a post I wrote – but didn’t publish – when I wasn’t supposed to be blogging …

It’s about how I accidentally invited DD over for bangers and mash on NRL Grand Final night. It’s a bit ancient, but it saves my poor aching head from having to string words together.

Anyways … DD forgot it was Grand Final night and accepted my invitation to dinner. When he remembered, he asked if it was possible to still come over for bangers and mash AND watch the football.

I’ve never dated anyone who watched the Grand Final so I was in unfamiliar territory. (Not a joke.)

My ex was more an Australian Open and Tour de France kinda bloke.

I was pretty sure I didn’t want to watch the Grand Final, though I reluctantly hung around for Macklemore’s pre-game performance and was startled to realise how many of his songs I knew. I quite enjoyed a bit of a bop on the couch. (I tried to tell the eldest about Macklemore a few days later when she got back from skiing – I raved about how he sang “Same Love” and how cool it was. I thought she’d be into it, being very pro-LGBTI, but she had no idea who Macklemore was or the significance of him singing “Same Love” at a football match, since she’s never seen one and is blissfully unaware of its blokey history, so she just looked at me blankly.)

But once the game started I was outta there.

I stepped into the kitchen – and a bit of a time warp – to cook dinner while DD watched tellie, serve him bangers and Shiraz while he watched tellie and have a bath while he watched tellie.

The game was still going after all that so I conceded defeat and watched the last few minutes of the match.

I was shocked to discover there were no Sydney teams in the NRL Grand Final, which must have really pissed people from Sydney off … and also all the people from Far North Queensland and Melbourne who had to travel to Sydney for it. Very inconvenient.

I was also shocked to see the Melbourne team’s off-field players and coach etc heartily congratulating each other on winning before they actually won. I mean I know it was a total decimation, but it didn’t seem quite kosher.

Because DD had enjoyed a couple of glasses of Shiraz he had to sleep over. I’m not used to him sleeping over, so when he coughed suddenly and violently – just after I’d gone to sleep – I thought he’d puked in the bed (he’d been a bit peaky with a virus). So I jacknifed across the mattress to escape the barf. Except there wasn’t any barf. My sudden movement made my calf go into a violent spasm and I thrashed around, wailing melodramatically in the bed for five minutes clutching my leg while DD frantically asked what was wrong.

I’m sure we’ll get used to sleeping with each other eventually.


There have been a few more #bedsharefails since then – I need more practice – but I’m going to keep you in suspense about the rest of my holiday for a bit longer because I need to lie down again.

Stand by for tomorrow’s installment, featuring a priest, a jacuzzi, a horrifying mountain climb and a scary road incident. Plus lots of pretty pictures.

Song of the day: Ed Sheeran & Macklemore “Same Love”

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