When I was a young boy I loved to crawl under our large kitchen table and lie on the floor, listening to my mother and father talk over the other sounds of meals being prepared or things being cleared away above my head.
The best thing about it was that after a while they forgot that I was there, so sometimes I learnt secrets which would not have been imparted if I had been in sight.
Every now and then I toy with the idea of getting a large dog-basket woven for me so I can do the same under our wooden kitchen table here, but H.I. points out that any basket big enough to contain me - even in a foetal position - would not fit under it without protruding into the kitchen between the legs, so I reluctantly shelve the idea until the next bout of mild insecurity.
I think that if I were wealthier I would have quite a few little traits and foibles like this. Did you know that in the last years of his life, Howard Hughes employed wet-nurses to breast-feed him at mealtimes? That's killing two birds with one stone, and well out of my price-range.
You think I am kidding, don't you?
But wouldn't you just hear H.I. talking to herself?
ReplyDeleteWe don't have any secrets anyway. I would just fall asleep - underneath the table rather than on top of it like I do every night.
DeleteWasn't it Hughes who also kept all his own piss in hundreds of bottles? I hope he paid the 'wet nurses' well.
ReplyDeletePossibly, but thankfully I am unaware of it.
DeleteI like the idea of you in a dog basket.
ReplyDeleteI bet you do.
DeleteI liked wearing the hood up on my school raincoat...I felt enclosed and safe. How can you be sure that you and H.I. have no secrets? if she has one then you don't know about it by nature of it being a secret?
ReplyDeleteI refer you to the Elvis song, 'Suspicious Minds'.
DeleteThink you're kidding about you or Howard Hughes? He was such a sad example. Don't try it too much, even for fun.
ReplyDeleteI can't afford to.
DeleteIf you could transmogrify into a dog Tom, what kind of dog would you be (we need to know this for getting the right size basket)..I would suggest either a Newfoundland or a Bedlington (don't know how big you are in real life).
ReplyDeleteI am a bit bigger than a Newfoundland, but I aspire to Bedlington - half dog, half sheep, as opposed to half cow, half bear.
DeleteThis is a great line of thought. I have you down as an Old English Sheepdog - a Bobtail with a somewhat peculiar gait. Huge basket required with lots of soft blankets.
DeleteI'm more like a Great Dane with arthritis. The blankets sound good.
DeleteWhen people are rich they often are odd they no longer need to live in the real world or they don't want to.
ReplyDeleteWho knows and I don't think I will ever find out.
Merle..............
I'm starting to feel more like that as I get poorer.
DeleteDuring dinner parties I would sometimes tuck myself under a side table by the sofa & pretend to be a spy listening in on the adults. How big would that table need to be now to accomodate me?
ReplyDeleteA bit smaller than me I think.
DeleteLittle Britain had a character who was a breast-fed man, so could have been inspired by HH. The eccentricities of the rich are better tolerated than others. Forelock-tugging, I guess.
ReplyDeleteYour dog basket is a good idea. At get-togethers being sent off to bed was the worst. All those indiscretions missed! My brother & I would go very still and quiet in the hope that the incautious adults would forget we were there and we could spy on them in their natural habitat. Sometimes worked. Most often we'd be spotted in our pj's trying to blend in with the jacquard print of the sofa.
Traditionally, only rich people were eccentric. Everyone else was mad. We never had parties, so I couldn't try it.
DeleteIt's good to have dreams. If I won 50 million quid like that Irish couple, I'd probably upgrade my car.
ReplyDeleteThey got 115 million quid I think. If I had that I would get a good night's sleep.
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