Saturday 22 October 2011

Today I am a hero. Tomorrow, who knows?


I was just sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee when my phone rang. Looking at the screen, I saw it was my 17 year-old grand daughter, and I was filled with the sense of trepidation that I always have when she calls me unexpectedly.

She only ever calls if there is A: a disaster, or B: she wants something. True, there are times when she has to call for other mundane reasons such as hooking up with her mother, who never answers any of the phones she has. When the girl calls me for this reason, her voice has a tired and irritated tone to it, as if it is all my fault that her mother never hears the phone ringing from the bottom of her handbag and usually the call ends with her blaming me for not possessing the psychic powers needed to pinpoint the precise location of a human being to within 3 square yards of any town in the south west of England, then cutting me off in mid-sentence without formally ending the conversation.

So when I pressed the answer button this morning I first heard her voice half way through a sentence and she seemed to be gabbling hysterically, but I could not tell if it was through grief or laughter. I need not have worried, because she was only in the process of finishing a conversation with someone else in the street at the same time as beginning one with me.

She tends to have several conversations going on at once when she uses the telephone, but does not use a conferencing facility between hand-sets, preferring to have the one or more other people involved standing right next to her, or at least within shouting distance across the other side of a room or bar. This can be quite disconcerting if you don't know what's going on. Eventually she acknowledged the fact that I had answered her call, but I had to say Hello? a few times beforehand. Then she got down to the nitty-gritty, and it took me a few moments to understand her frantic monologue.

"OHMYGOD! IwasonmywaytoworkandI'vejustgonepastthesaturdaymarketandthere'sajacketinfakefurthatIreaallywantandit's£35andI'vegotthemoneybutIreallyneeditforwhenIvisitmyboyfriendthisweekendandIthoughtyoumaybeabletobuyitformeasaChristmaspresentandit'sSOOO
gorgeousbutIfeelreallyguiltyaskingyouforit....."

You - I hope - get the picture. After she had calmed down a bit and stopped telling me that she would pay me back if I bought it for her (who pays for their own Christmas presents?) I told her to buy it, then I would visit her later today and give her the money for it. She hung up, but not before telling me that I was the best grand dad in the world, etc. etc., then ran off and snatched the fur coat before anyone else did, as I went back to drinking coffee.

About 5 minutes later, the phone rang again, and she explained to me that she felt guilty in case I thought that she had only called to ask for the money for the jacket. I wracked my brains to think of another reason why she had called this morning. Finding none, told her there was no reason to feel guilty.

It is very sad to see H.I.'s debilitating addiction to fashion being passed down through 2 generations, but quite endearing also. It could be worse, they could have developed a thing about glass and candlesticks. Actually, no they couldn't.

18 comments:

  1. She is the one on the right in the above photo, taken a couple of years ago when she was about 15. You can see how she wraps me round her little finger, eh?

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  2. I can't wait for my grandsons to phone me.... about anything!

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  3. They will, Cro. May all your calls be as uplifting as this one.

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  4. P.S. - That necklace she is wearing was a present from me too, at a time when you HAD to have an outlandishly large, fake pearl necklace if you were 15 or 16 years old.

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  5. I would just like some grand children - boys or girls, I'm not fussy.

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  6. One day I hope, before I get too decrepit to play with them. But I'm glad my two daughters (24 and 26)are enjoying life to the full and I can hardly expect them to have babies just because I'm feeling broody!

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  7. I laughed out loud
    because I have one of them.

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  8. As you know, Sarah, there is quite a long period in girls' early adulthood when they can switch between being a child and being a grown up in the blink of an eye, and there is no warning as to what's coming next. That's still a heck of a lot better than having their childhood curtailed through outside interference, and it is part of what makes them so charming and entertaining - some of us poor boys never seem to get beyond the adolescent stage...

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  9. She knew she could depend on her grandfather. What is really nice is that she called you back to explain herself. Now, that is a good girl who loves you (even more than the coat).

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  10. I think it's cute that she calls on you like that. She must know you care about fashion a bit. And well, anyway, she won't be cold this winter!

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  11. There now, that was a nice thing to do. May we all call you when we spot something we like on the designer rail?

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  12. Maybe: Yes.

    Amy: Yes, No.

    Mise: No.

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  13. That's what the Good Lord put grand dads on this earth for

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  14. You are DEFINITELY right, Moll. X

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  15. Grand daughters are great. Ours has come over from Australia to see her Grandad before the Alzheimer's gets too bad. She will be here on Tuesday. Wonderful.

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  16. Tuesday? They're late! Where's my milk?

    (I shouldn't joke - I misread Elegance's latest post about her mother, and my thoughts are with her now.

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