Virtual Insanity

My Dear Princess and Dear Fellows,

Everything is messaging and Skype-ing and Zoom-ing now, isn't it? Every meeting is virtual and all conversation is typed. 

Some of the meetings are all right. Some are effing painful. Because MPI wants to ensure everyone's morale is up and mental health is maintained, we have a stupid 11am meeting EVERY DAY NOW. About EFF ALL.

Seriously. It's all about what's the weather like with you? And how are your "wee ones" doing? And look. I am not unsympathetic. I know some people find this daily human contact valuable. But on the other hand, I effing hate it. 

So today I skipped it. I told Smock that I was meeting Lemon for a Virtual Coffee. Which was actually true. She was, as always in great form and very happy to hear that you all love her stories. She likes the fact that she has fans in Scotland. I told her that you had all responded positively about her story of The Boy and how he is knickers-free these days.

"He's still into that," she responded. "But he's stopped calling it his 'dick'," she told me. "His mum has drilled it into him that it is called a 'penis'."

But this has raised new possibilities for mischief.

"We love taking him to public places and asking him about it," said Lemon. "Because he gets quite loud and we can look at passers-by reacting to him."
 
It goes like this:

LEMON: Is your dong-dong still sore?
THE BOY: IT'S NOT A DONG-DONG GWANNY! IT'S A PEEEEENISSSS!
LEMON: Not a dick?
THE BOY: NOOOOOOO!!!! NOT A DICK! PEEEEENISSSSS!!!
LEMON: Are you SURE it's not a dick?
THE BOY: NOOOOOO!!! IT'S A DONG-DO... I MEAN PEEENISSS! PENIS! PENIS! PENIS!!

"It's wrong, really," admitted Lemon.

Her mum has now moved into the new build granny-flat that Lemon has constructed out the back. It is very handy, and obviously perfect timing as it means the family is mostly together. Lemon is home-working like the rest of of us, but finds it easier to go to her mum's wee house out the back every morning to work. 

We were discussing the alcohol situation. Caro has ordered a big box of alco-pops (vodka and watermelon) which are currently decontaminating in our garage. Lemon was bemoaning the fact that she has nothing when I reminded her about the bottle of Kraken I bought her when she left. 

"Oh my god the KRAKEN!!!" she repeated. "Well, this is a great excuse!" she added, happily.

I asked how her son, daughter in law and The Boy were doing in their quarantine. She told me they are all good and she and her mum keep in touch with the boy by video calling him every day. "We play games and sing songs together," she said. "The only problem is if he gets bored. He just drops the phone on the carpet and walks off. All we can see is the ceiling."

Then they'll hear his mum in the background. "Samelu! Have you left your granny on the floor again!"

"Or if he gets really bored with us he just hangs up," said Lemon. 

So that was a fun 30 minutes. But it was cut short when Lemon turned around to realise that her mum had retrieved the Kraken and had it on her table, surrounded by shot glasses. 

"Eff's sake!" said Lemon. "I need to get her some coke. That bloody stuff is 40%!"

But our meeting had done its work. I totally missed the daily meeting. So I've no idea what the weather is like in Upper Hutt. But I can tell you that it sounds like it's about to get pretty messy in Porirua.

S.

p.s. Today's picture is Punky cat, stretched out in front of his fire. Bless his little fuzzy heart.