OMG and Stuff.

There were two little girls in a charity shop today rummaging among the ‘pre-loved’ (my word, how I do hate marketing euphemisms even when they're dribbled out in a good cause) items in the toy section. Every so often one of them would squeal ‘Oh my God!’ and shortly afterwards the other would follow suit. After a couple of repetitions of this time-honoured phrase I heard their mother, who was on the further side of the shop, call to them:

‘I want no more of that language from you two!’

…and I thought ‘Now, there’s a woman with standards.’

But then I wondered whether her objection related to a phrase which she deemed blasphemous, or a platitude which she considered unbecoming of her prized offspring. What a shame I’ll never know. To know the motivation is to know the species, and knowing the species is about all I’ve got left before my teeth drop out or the langoliers come to eat me from the inside, or both.

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Nobody said the word ‘Sarah’ today. I assumed the universe was ignoring me. (But Amy – who really does have that certain special quality and should be called Emily IMAO – is going off to New Zealand in ten days time. I doubt she’ll write.)

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I’m currently drinking Portuguese beer. It’s better than I expected.