bum date

"Lunch my arse!!"

I had another ‘Damn You Autocorrect!’ moment earlier, a bit like the one that I blogged about here.

My lovely friend sent me a text asking what I was up to on Thursday as she would be nearby and wondered if I fancied being taken for a slightly late birthday lunch.

My response?  “Dammit, I’m off on Thursday taking my arse to lunch!”

Of course, I didn’t realise what I had sent until she replied, “Your arse?”

I did actually mean ‘my parents’ and have no idea how they were replaced by my arse.  I only hope my mum never finds out!

a slip of the finger

A gorgeous Jeremy bay

I love predictive text – it makes my life so much easier.  However, yesterday I once again fell foul of the predictive text trap.

My parents have gone on holiday to Jersey, and I thought I’d drop them a quick text just to say that I hoped they were having a good time.

Except the text I sent them read:  “I hope you’re both enjoying Jeremy xx”

I got a text back from my mum this morning saying “Jeremy is absolutely wonderful – especially in the hot tub!”

This isn’t my worst predictive text slip-up though.  That happened about 7 years ago.

I had just started going out with this guy and he lived down in the new forest – and absolute bastard of a journey. I’d seen him a few times, and he was lovely, and this particular time, he’d come and stayed at my place for the weekend – and we had slept together for the first time.

He had to leave early Sunday evening to get his train back from central London, and so I sent him a text asking “So, when do you get home?”

Except I didn’t.  I asked him “So, when do you get good?”

mad as a milliner

Surreal? The Girl? Never!

Tonight we had to go to our ‘Parent review’ meeting.  I hate the name of that because it makes it sound like we were due to be scrutinised.

Perhaps that’s what it is – maybe they make us go into the school periodically to sit on the tiny chairs, and feel like naughty school kids to make sure that we’re decent parents, take the correct amount of interest in our children and aren’t thick as two short planks ourselves in which case it would be understandable that our kids were too!

Anyway, going to these meetings is always really embarrassing as The Girl’s teachers are always really gushy about her.  She has things the right way round – she is perfectly behaved with everyone.  Except for us.  Her teacher today said “I wish I could have a whole class of her – she’s an absolute joy to teach!”  Pah…bloody sucky goody-two-shoes teacher’s pet!

So we made the right noises, I told her some of my concerns, she put them all to rest, we discussed SATs to no avail – still don’t know yet whether she’ll be doing them in 3 weeks or not, The Girl was perfectly behaved and then we walked home.

Her ‘creativity’ that she was so applauded for certainly came out as we were walking.

The Girl:  I’m sorry that I behave at school but not at home.  i’m going to really try to change that

Me:  You said that before…in fact every time we see your teachers.  You’ve never managed to change.

The Girl:  We-ell…that could be because I’m a Mad Hatter

Me:  No, it could be because you can’t be bothered

The Girl:  No.  i’m pretty sure that it’s because I’m a Mad Hatter

Me:  Yes.  You are a mental milliner

The Girl:  What’s a mimmiler?

Me:  MILLINER

The Girl:  Ok – what’s that?

Me:  Someone who makes hats

The Girl:  Ohhhhhhhhh.  *then in a sing-song voice, prancing around*  Look at me, I make hats.  I’m a milliner.  I’m so crazy.  I make hats out of leaves. *pulls a couple of leaves off a nearby tree*  but not this one (throwing it away) – this one is no good because it only speaks Spanish.

Now.  Is it surrealism or creativity.  I’m unsure.