Gawd Love 'Em

It's been just over a week since I arrived in Cambridge and what I've discovered so far is very nice. Hubby and I are surrounded by Harvard and its many, many buildings which lends itself to the neighbourhood being quite lively and diverse.

Having started to settle into the 'hood, and not had a decent chat with the family, I called to let them know that I was fine, everything was going well (even though I still feel like I'm in holiday mode!) and I was missing them.

Chatting to the folks back home, made me remember the last few months being back at Ma & Pa since Hubby and I gave up our flat at the end of March (which meant going back to stay with Ma & Pa).

It's amazing how you fall back into being who you were before you left home!

When my friends called to ask if I wanted to meet up with them, a slight panic of telling my parents would wash over me (just to explain, my childhood was brilliant but strict - never allowed to stay out late unless the parents knew who I was going out with; I had to adhere to the time I said I would be back at etc...) hence the panic when I had to inform said parents that I was off out for the night!

One night, such an occasion rose and I thought, 'ang on a minute, I'm married, they can't say anything!'... so I spoke to Mother and said that I was off out...no questions asked, just an ok, see you later. How bizarre was that?!

The girls decided to throw me a 'last night at my flat' party and we all sat on floor cushions munching on nibbles and knocking back the wine. Everyone left at midnight; but me, Best Friend and Best Friend's sister stayed on chatting until 2am!

I went back home, thinking I hope the parents are not up...but popped my head around the Parents bedroom door and Mother said "hmm...what time do you call this?", I grinned and said, sorry - I was talking! Just then Father walked out of the bathroom, he looked at me...and suddenly, I was 16 again... "where have you been?" he demanded to know - just out talking, I replied... "until 2am? Did you lock the front door?", yes Dad I replied meekly and then I sauntered off to bed. I couldn't believe that I had just been told off!

***

Quickly enough, I fell into the Parents routine of getting up by 9am, having breakfast, mull around, pop into Croydon and then about 3pm decide what to have for dinner, fumble around in the fridge for the ingredients, pop out the shops to pick up anything missing, cook dinner and then settle down in front of the TV to eat said dinner.

Now, I have very different viewing habits than The Parents, but as it's their house and only the upstairs TV has Sky HD i.e. I can record my favourite programmes, I was happy to go along with what they wanted to watch. But, I had forgotten how much of a routine they could fall into. Every night, the programming/evening went as follows:

6-7pm: ITV News and Weather
7pm & 30 secs :Emmerdale theme music (Father likes to hear it but doesn't watch the programme)
7-8m: Two and Half Men
8-9.30pm: channel hopping trying to find something to watch whilst complaining that despite over 40 channels to choose from, there was nothing to watch.
9.30-10pm: cup of tea made
10pm (or earlier most nights): I'm abandoned. But this 'abandonment' was not completely unwelcome; it meant that I could then watch the stuff that I wanted to (Sex and the City, True Blood, Fringe...) but best of all I could flick between channels.

The Parents hated it when I tried to flick between the channels. But I only did this because once you've seen one set of adverts, its guaranteed that they will repeat the same ones again and again each break. And not only the adverts, but the promo's of the up and coming snippets of the next 'exciting' installment of 'What Katy did next'. There's only so many times a sane person can watch said adverts/promos over and over and over...

One said promo was one about South Park. We all know South Park and how close to the line (heck even over it) they can go. But their particular promo went as follows:

In a fudge factory, kids amble up to the assembly line, where workers are putting fudge into boxes:

"Oh my God, its Tom Cruise!"
"I didn't know Tom Cruise was a fudge packer?!"
"I am not a fudge packer!"
"What's going on?"
"It's Tom Cruise, he's a fudge packer"....

I merely rolled my eyes and then looked across to the Parents and that made me laugh. They just looked almost blankly at the TV. I mused as to whether they understood the term 'fudge packer'...I was thinking not!

Mother looked at me..."there's nothing but nonsense on the TV now"

Each week, guaranteed on a Monday evening, Father would ask me if X Factor is on, I would say, do you mean American Idol, he said yes, I would say that it's on a Wednesday Dad, he'd reply oh ok...every week...without fail...and then it got worse when Britain's Got Talent and then it was the confusion of what programme was on when!..

Oh I do miss Ma & Pa and their way of not quite getting things, their memory loss and selective hearing...gawd love 'em.