Remote brat

I think it fair to say I’ll not be mentioning the cricket in this post…apart from that bit.

Today the three of us went to visit Claire. This afternoon for all three, actually. Bob had already been in the morning. Mirinda spent the morning studying while I watched something unmentionable. We then went shopping.

I am SO in love with the Glenorie Woolworths. It is massive and, because both times we’ve been, they’ve been very few customers, each of us gets three staff members to wait on us. It is simply perfect.

We also had lunch at the cafe once again. Today I rediscovered the delicious joys of the vanilla slice. It’s amazing that I’ve never seen one in Europe. I wouldn’t have thought they were Australian by birth but who knows? Maybe they are like the humble lamington and Aussie through and through. Which reminds me. I must have a lamington before I go back.

Anyway, after lunch we went back to the house where Mirinda needed a rest (she is still a bit blocked up with her cold) and I suffered through a bit more…you know…until it was time to leave for the hospital.

When there’s three visitors, it’s a bit of a tag team effort as only two are allowed in at once. Entering the ICU is like entering a secret facility beneath the White House. There’s a little waiting room and a big steel door. You buzz and, if she likes the cut of your jib, a nurse will let you in.

When you go ‘tag team’, one member stays in the waiting room and is relieved in half an hour and round it goes. It works well.

During my half hour in the waiting room, the small TV was showing Deal or No Deal. I have to say, it’s very different to the UK version. While I don’t watch it now, I remember when it first started and I was working at Telewest. Terry used to love it so we all suffered through his viewing habits.

Anyone who’s watched it knows the entire premise is to build the tension up until the final moment of reveal. These sort of shows do this very well. To the extent that I was half watching it as an excitable woman with ballet pose feet nominated boxes.

I was actually reading about Alexander the Great but would keep glancing up as her boxes were opened. A couple sitting directly in front of the TV were engrossed, they’re heads together during the chatty bits, comparing notes on what the woman should do next.

In walked a family consisting of two little children (a boy about 5, a girl about 7) and a harassed woman. The kids were very noisy. Of course, they all had to stand directly in front of me and gabble away about something clearly not for my ears.

On the small TV, the woman had a 25% chance of getting $100,000. She had four boxes left and there were two very small amounts and two big ones. You could say it was a bit exciting. She chose a box, the camera went to the box as the person holding it guessed what was in it and…the channel was changed by the 5 year old boy.

He had somehow found the remote control and was waving it at the TV and dancing maniacally with his sister. Had he been near me, I think I would have clouted him one. As it was I turned to him and his (I assume) mother and glared at them.

The old couple in the front suddenly went all confused, wondering why the TV was saying different things now. The mother just looked back at me as if to say that the 5 year old boy owned the TV and could do whatever the hell he wanted. I was about to give him a damn good thrashing when Bob appeared at the big steel door and I went back to see Claire before we left for home.

Unbelievable. Here’s some Dural trees for a bit of calm reassurance.

Soft and green

This entry was posted in Australia 2010, Gary's Posts and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Remote brat

  1. Mum Cook says:

    The children of today are !!!!!!!! good job I was not there and your father would have been so mad, as that is one of his favourite programs. Give everyone my love. love mum

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