Grief V's The Toddler.

Well I have been kind of quiet in cyber space, and I guess in general. My beautiful sister and greatest fan died a week and a bit ago and everything I try to say since comes out kind of weird and wrong, the massive dangling snot from my nose when I sobbed my way through trying to read something at her funeral is a prime example of this. Many people came up to me afterwards and said I was "brave" for my attempt, who knew public boogey mishaps could be inspiring.
Like most things, not even the proximity to death could slow the Nazgul down. While on the whole she was tame, by her standards, she does get an honourable mention for unbridled mentalness during a difficult time. Sitting by my sister's death bed I was pouring my heart out, thanking her for introducing me to my husband and whispering many secrets and truths that are only for her and I. As a kissed her and stroked her forehead I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to see the Nazgul repeatedly stabbing a banana with my keys, Charles Manson style. Now as a Sydney-sider bananas are to us what cows are to the Hindu, so I was absolutely gutted to see my angelic looking daughter going helter skelter on the precious fruit. Which she subsequently peeled, attempted to eat but rejected due the the texture.
Obviously, things were pretty strange for the Nazgul after her Aunty died and she had an amazing coping mechanism of re-enacting scenes from Riddley Scott's Alien and attaching herself to my face all night and refusing to sleep. It reached a peak one night where while attached to my face her affection tipped over into insanity and she began kissing my face, graduated into repeatedly biting my face, then bit and sucked on my lip resulting in some quite spectacular bruising and teeth marks. I have to admit that at 3am a crazed toddler gnawing at your face can make you more than a tad frightened.
When the family was discussing the funeral arrangements with the undertaker I was quite pleased that the Nazgul was amusing herself quietly, just muttering "Bubble, bubble, bubble" to herself. She had very calmly covered the floor, herself and many of my sisters books in an entire bottle of bubble mix.  While highly annoying and slippery, it did highlight the fact that after spending over a week away from Rainman and My First Husband her speech improved dramatically. Turns out she could talk after all, just couldn't get a word in edge ways.

Danger Words

This morning as the Nazgul force fed me a grape of indeterminable vintage, I got to thinking about how being alerted to imminent danger has changed. In the past, the warning of potential hazards and unsafe situations was pretty standard "Fire", "Run" and "Last Drinks" being the most notable. While the word gravity is now positively sinister, it is more of a slow creep than one that immediately freezes the bowels and makes legs twitch.

It has become accepted around Crap Headquarters that the word "igh-ees" (rough English translation: eyes), is usually immediately followed by a sharp poke in the eye and corneas scratched by sharp, dirty little fingernails and shrieks of delight from the Nazgul. In a similar vein, hearing the mutterings of "busybee, busybee, biz biz, busybee" is pretty much a sign to head for the fallout shelter, it is the signal that the Nazgul is rampaging through the house destroying then coating the debris in sunscreen or moisturizer. Recently I was trying to send a text message when I heard the dreaded mutterings to look up and see the Busy Bee sculling soy milk (football hooligan style) while attempting to key the glass doors. Busy Bee also has a penchant for throwing things into the bath (particularly electrical goods), putting popcorn in the toilet and ramming herself into the protective barriers we have placed around everything until she can get close enough to the TV to attempt to key that. I am not sure where she got the idea that a Bee is a vandalising serial killer but it has caused me to add one of those suits that police dog trainers wear to my birthday wish list.

The Busy Bee is not the Nazgul's only alter-ego. We often have prolonged assaults from "The Little Cat", who plays the sociopath to the busy bees psychopathology. The warning bell for the appearance of the Little Cat, is the Nazgul crawling up to you on all fours going "Ahhh Ahhh", then crash tackling you in a head butting frenzy of over enthusiastic kisses, cuddles and general unbalanced love, the Nazgul cuts an elegant figure with the body shape of a front row forward so this little game always ends with a shriek and an agonised "GENTLE, WE DON'T HURT MUMMY". Unfortunately, the main characteristic of the little cat is that is doesn't heed any advice, instruction or pleas for mercy. In the past fortnight alone, she has attempted to decapitate me with the broom on three occasions, attempted to tear my earrings from my ears daily and I suspect has caused life long damage to my septum with the kisses.

The reinterpretation of danger words is not the Nazgul's doing alone, Rainman has the superhuman ability to make a noise that can instantly induce rage in the listener. I am sure some sinister military agency will one day synthesise this sound to play at enemy insurgents - a modern version of the fabled 'brown note". This noise is usually an indication that you will turn around to find Rainman punching his own shoes, pulling at chunks of his hair or biting his own trousers leaving you on the verge of the parenting faux pas of screaming "What the fuck is wrong with your brain?". This is not the most dangerous or most psychically damaging of Rain Man's sounds, as soon as he utters the words "Pokemon", "Munchkin" (some overly complicated imaginary game he plays with his friends) or spies, you know that you are in for a 3-4 hr monologue which eventually degenerates into a nonsensical diatribe or argument (recently he claimed he had already completed some spy training as he had medical knowledge and went into a rant about 'clerics' and healing, when I gently mentioned he was talking about something made up from a role playing game, he had a fit that he was talking about the real world not a game and became so frustrated he was almost frothing at the mouth).


Similarly, I am alerted to danger from My First Husband when he says "Hi, I am home", but that is another post entirely.....

***The Crap Housewife would like to apologise for the delay in posting, she has been under constant terrorist attack in the form of an imaginary bee and kitten and has not emerged unscathed from the encounters. However she makes no apologies for the spelling and grammatical errors, she just can't be arsed***