The Other New Normal

There's a story about the late French Premier Charles De Gaulle's wife that goes like this;

Lunching with English friends at the time of her husband's retirement, Madame de Gaulle was asked what she was looking forward to in the years ahead. Without hesitation she replied;

"A penis."

There was a pause before her host said;

"I think the English don't pronounce the word quite like that. It's happiness.'"

Now, I don't know how true that is (and yes, I checked Snopes) but it appeals to me because - to put it mildly - happiness messes with my mojo. Not my happiness, I'm not Eeyore for crying out loud. Other people's happiness.  It's not that I don't like people to be happy, I just don't trust it. I have a paranoid voice that pipes up when people laugh that likes to tell me people are laughing at me. Partly based on the fact that people laugh at me a lot.

Actually, that's a lie. I don't like it when people are happy. When I was at university there was a women in one of my classes that would always greet me with beaming cheery smile and the words;

"Morning, sausage!"

Which made me want to headbutt her. In fact, I roundly ignored her. Mainly because I'd come to the conclusion that to be that cheery every day she had to be either mentally ill or on a similar self-medication regime as Keith Richards. Turned out she was just a happy person. The bitch.

So yesterday really creeped me out as I cycled home and fell off my bike in front of a BMW. Being 40, bespectacled and rotund, I generate a moderate level of attention cycling through town, and regularly draw comments from people I pass. Most commonly that comment is;

"PEDAL, YOU FAT C**T!"

So on any other day the person driving the BMW I'd liberally spread myself under would have run me over. I know this because he was driving a BMW, and the only way he could have been a bigger arsehole would have been if he was driving a 4x4. However, as I clambered out from under his front bumper I saw the driver jumping out of his car with a look of concern.

"You alright, mate?" He asked. I nodded, not wanting to admit that I'd hurt my bum because I didn't want to sound like I was five. I cycled off somewhat baffled that someone I'd judged solely on the car they drove had been wrong to do so. I thought about this for some time and came to the only conclusion a right thinking individual could think; he'd clearly stolen the car.

As I was thinking this I passed a group of thirteen or fourteen-year-olds who yelled;

"Hello!"

Once again, taken aback that they hadn't held me up with a pair of scissors, marched me to an off-licence and made me buy them cider, I replied hesitatingly;

"Uh... Hello."

"Hope you have a nice day!"

We're through the looking glass here, people. This sort of thing doesn't happen to me. Ever. Clearly "Hope you have a nice day"  was some coded teen-speak meaning; "I'm going to stab you up" so I ignored them and cycled as fast as I could.

But as I've said many times in the past, home is my little castle of normalcy. As I walked through the door the Girl ran up and cuddled me.

"Daddeeee! I love you!"

"Thanks..."

"I want to be like you when I grow up."

To which the Boy said;

"What, fat?"

Later that evening, after tucking the Kids into bed, I went out to our shed to get something from the freezer to eat. As I was about to walk back into the house I heard the Girl's voice say;

"Does anyone want any fairy dust?"

I looked up to see her peering out of her bedroom window between the curtains, holding something.

"You should be asleep."

"Here's your fairy dust."

she said, ignoring me. And then dropped a can of hair spray straight into my upturned face.

It's things like this that keep me on an even keel. As strange as it is to say, it's the weirdness and abuse I encounter at the hands of my spawn that gives me comfort in an uncertain world where people say hello to you, and expect you to be cheerful. The main happiness I get is that thus far neither of my Kids have slit my throat in my sleep. Why do I say that? Well, because that same evening they did this;

That IS what you think it is and no, I didn't make it

The reason the Boy isn't in this photo is because he was making a Lego "mincing machine". 

I didn't ask. I was happy to be normal again.