Saving Face

Sometimes being economical can come at great cost.

There I was, thinking how clever I was using the department store's Tester Product of the ridiculously expensive skincare serum that promises so much, and costs a darn sight more.  I'm right in the target demographic (25-65 year old females), I've long longed for it, but have never been able to afford it.  Not at around $AUD250 for about 50ml.

So here I am, planning on saving myself some money by using the store's supply instead- albeit only enough for one spot, on one day...and kid myself I could save my skin one section at a time.

Perhaps I should have invested more time in planning.

At the very least I should have paid more attention to which way the little nozzle was facing before I squirted.

Did it go into my waiting hand?  No.

Did it make it anywhere near the skin in question?  No.

Instead, a decent dose of expensive serum landed squarely on my shirt, in the general vicinity of my mammary gland. To be totally and embarrassingly honest, I found myself doing my best impression of a lactating lady; well and truly wasting about $10 of said serum in the process.

Multi-skilled mother that I am, I simultaneously swiped at the affront to my front, whilst looking around to see who had witnessed my misfire.  Happily, it was one of those days where staff was in short supply (as opposed to being accosted by many the minute you set foot in the door), and other customers were fairly sparse as well.

Nevertheless, I was left red-faced and wet-chested as I quickly but casually made my way away from the cosmetics counter, and back to my car, fighting the urge to cross my arms or hold my handbag up as a shield of sorts. Or something not so casual as that.

Now, I'm not saying anything against lactating mothers. Heaven knows I've been there / done that / had the milk stains to prove it. It's just that a decade down the road, I don't have the luck or the luxury of a screaming infant in a stroller to justify the look.  And quite frankly, looks were what I was trying to avoid right about now.

Since I was shortly due to go into a new school and teach a group of children I had not yet met, I thought it best to detour via my house and change my shirt before I went. Kids in classrooms don't need much to distract them at the best of times, let alone a substitute teacher with stains right at eye level...

So, sad to say, I still don't own the aforementioned miracle serum; my skin didn't even get a one-time treatment for free.

And my so-called clever, economical idea cost me time, effort, and no chance at all to save face.

Jx

©2013

Just Add Water

Science states that the human body is up to 70% water.

Evolutionists say that life as we know it crawled out of the ocean some 3-4 billion years ago.

You only have to watch what happens when particular humans are placed near a body of water to see that it's true.

Take what happened to us late last year.

I noticed our front garden was looking a little lush, considering the lack of attention we give it - first a bit of extra moisture, then a trickle, then a faster flow into the carport beside.

It got to a point that the men of the neighbourhood did as men do, stood around and discussed the matter. After a suitable length of time, and appropriate number of beers, the menfolk decided a natural spring had sprung up in the midst of the front foliage.   

And left it at that.

Until the local Water Board left a little card in the mailbox saying our water usage was "higher than usual".  Still my Beloved thought it nothing of consequence, it was summertime after all and kids being kids had been splashing about a bit in recent times.

When the Water Board left a message on the phone that our bill was on its way and it was, again, a little higher than usual, I felt a trickle of concern.

It turned into a full blown flood the day the bill appeared- December 21. Whereas our regular bill was around the $400 mark, this one came in at $4521.18 (was that 18 cents really necessary?) I mean to say: Four Thousand, Five Hundred Dollars!! A "little higher"? Yes, like Lady Liberty is a little statue!

A discussion with the Water Board had me trying to track down a plumber to come take a look. Good luck with that, 4 days before Christmas. 45 minutes and countless phone calls later I still had not found a tradie willing to come before the holidays; the earliest any of them offered was the 4th of January!  Forget the sugarplums, I had visions of dollar bills running down the driveway. So back to the Water Board I go and beg them to help me find someone suitable to assess the situation. Finally a company agrees, for only $150 call out, plus $90 an hour. 

There go the kids' Christmas presents. I need a Secret Santa, stat!

Anyhow, plumber comes at the crack of dawn next day (pun fully intended, you know what tradespeople are like) and there's me out in the garden in my pjs, with him saying "You need someone with underground detection gear to find the pipe and save a lot of digging". I make no assumptions on the intelligence of the plumbing profession, but Einstein he ain't. So, why, I ask, did your company not send someone with said gear? His advice was to get someone else to do the dirty work, unless I was willing to pay two blokes the hourly rate apiece. Yeah, no.

Armed with shovels my Beloved and neighbouring blokes started shifting soil.

4 hours later, 6 feet down and 8 feet along, they found where the water was coming from.

But we seemed to have misplaced our menfolk.

Instead we had mud monsters of various shapes and sizes, three grown men had a total and terrific transformation back to boyhood, they were having so much fun playing in the mud. 

Our actual children, on the other hand, stood well back from the filth, in their gumboots. 

The womenfolk were standing a little further back again, armed with various  cameras and recording devices, capturing the moment for posterity...just in case one of the aforementioned fellas did something that might win us the big bucks on those Funniest Home Video Shows.

Sadly, while there was a lot of laughter, cursing, and occasionally squealing from 'the pit' (yes, squealing), there wasn't any footage worth submitting. Happily, they found where the Water Board were making their money, and after more swearing and squealing, they were able to clamp it off until the plumber could come back - using a system that would have made MacGyver proud- a bit of wire, a rubber glove, some duct tape, and a plastic bag.

They caused such a spectacle that the neighbours across the street had set up deckchairs and were sitting, drinking, and cheering everytime the water got turned back on and the men started their swearing and squealing again.

After much mirth and way too much mud, the boys reckoned their rubber glove/duct tape/clamp combination would do the job until the professionals came back (at the crack of dawn the next day). Surprisingly, it did.

Now all we had to do was unearth (literally) our spouses, by way of the garden hose on the lawn- no way was that much mud coming inside our homes.

And after a bit more begging, pleading, and form-filling for the Water Board, they accepted our submission that the original water pipe had simply given way due to old age (happens to us all), and they reduced the bill from 4-and-a-half grand, to a mere 500-hundred-and-something.  Plus the plumber's bill.

The kids got their Christmas presents after all.

The neighbours got a new drinking game out of it.

And next time the neighbourhood needs a bit of cheering up, we'll just add water.

Jx

©2012

The Whole Tooth

What’s the going rate for the tooth fairy these days, I wonder?

I only ask because while helping my son clean his teeth tonight, I discovered he has not one, not two, but five baby teeth about to drop!

He’s only lost the bottom front two (central incisors) so far and has been eagerly watching all his friends reap the rewards of placing their little pearly whites under their pillows. And now he’s got the wobbles up in all four incisors along the top, along with the little left lateral incisor down the bottom, all at the same time.

If that’s not enough to worry about, there’s great confusion as to what a tooth is worth.

When I was a kid (doing my best impression of a granny here) it was around 10 cents a pop, but the deal was we had to put it in a glass of water by the bed and promise not to peek during the night, for fear of scaring the fairy away before payday. Plus we only got paid if our teeth were in good condition- a good way of making sure we brushed right, day and night; something we also try to impress upon our kids.

Now, I know in other parts of the world the tooth fairy doesn’t do cash, but leaves a toy or a gift of some sort instead (smart fairies those- ‘cause who knows how much those things cost?). But I overheard a kid at school the other day telling his friends how he got a note for his last toothy transaction, and a blue one at that (that’s $AU10.00 for our friends overseas)!

Sheesh, if the tooth fairy in this family had to fork out even $5 a time for the 20 baby teeth the average kid possesses, that’s (uses fingers and toes) $100 per child! Sure beats the hell outta the 2 bucks my mouth earnt me all those years ago!! Talk about inflation.

And to be honest, I don’t know if our local friendly fairy has a quick $25 on her if all five fell out at the same time…which is looking likely.

I mean, hasn’t the Global Financial Crisis affected the fairy folk at all?

With the economic downturn and the way values have fallen worldwide, I would’ve thought the going rate would’ve gone the way of a lot of things- and that’s down, not up.

But my son has put a lot of time and effort into all the toothy talk, especially since at all of age 7 he feels hard done by that a lot of the kids in his class are already busy growing all their permanent pearlers (our daughter is mega cranky because at 5, she hasn’t even started to get any wobbly ones, no matter how hard she tries); he’s managed to lose only two so far.

And lose them, he did.

After days and days of playing with the first wobbly one, it came out while he was munching a packet of potato chips. He thought it was a hard bit of chip so he spat it out on the ground. In the living room, for goodness sake! (Oh don’t worry, we had a chat about that, too.)

I just happened to look at him and said: “Where’s your tooth gone?” before he realized the error of his ways. So there we were, all four on the floor looking for a tiny little tooth in the beige carpet, for crying out loud. I found it and balanced it on the tip of my little finger to show the others when our daughter hopped up to see and accidentally smacked my hand in the process…sending the tooth flying once more.

The second tooth came out in the next-door neighbour’s swimming pool. Same deal- I looked at him and asked: “When did you lose your tooth?” which sent all the kids into a frenzy trying to find the thing. Yeah, good luck on a pebbled pool base! After tearfully begging the neighbours to let him know if it showed up in their filter (it didn’t), he came home to write an epic letter to the tooth fairy explaining what had happened. Luckily she’s just about heard it all, and still came good with the cash, despite receiving nothing in return. (Don’t know that I’d be so generous. Oh, wait…)

And now with 5 little wobblers at once, I’d best be keeping my eye on them. I’ll also keep the camera charged and ready, because if they do all come out at the same time, it’ll make for a great photo opportunity (perfect for, say, a 21st birthday party, don’t you think). Best stock up on soup and straws too, because I don’t think he’ll be doing much chewing ‘til the new ones grow in.

In the meantime, I’ll try and come up with a reasonable payment plan for just how much a baby tooth is worth (hopefully before the tooth fairy’s services are again required in our residence), and I’ll leave you with this little bit of wisdom to do with what you will:

Remember, always be true to your teeth or they’ll be false to you!

Jx
©2009

Driving Myself Crazy

I have decided that there is no such thing as the perfect car.

At least, I haven’t found it yet and I’ve been searching for the past four months. Perhaps it’s just not in our budget.

What I have found is a bunch of lemons that could never make lemonade even with all the sugar in the world.

I have also found some of the dodgiest car dealers that ever prowled the planet.

Sad to say, there’s a good reason that used car salesmen keep turning up in lists of professions we trust the least.

Aside from the misguided males who seem to think that a female isn’t interested in anything aside from the colour when it comes to choosing a car, I have also come across the fellas who actually believe that you’ll fall for their charms and buy the first vehicle they show you, even though it’s the wrong size, wrong shape, and definitely the wrong price.

And just quietly, I’ve found that if you know more about the car than the ones trying to sell it to you, it’s time to take the exit ramp.

So there’s been a lot of desktop research going on, not only to narrow the selection for the next family bandwagon, but also what to look out for once you take the next step and set foot on the lot.

Oh and there’s nothing like taking a car for a test drive to strengthen the bonds of the family ties.

Yes, the times I have managed to drag my Beloved and offspring along to check out a likely contender, it’s taken twice as long to get the specs on the car, let alone start talking turkey about buying the thing. If it’s not the kids dashing off in different directions exploring every open door in the showroom, it’s my Beloved spotting something else entirely across the lot and throwing that one into the mix, just to add to the confusion.

Mind you, I have discovered that having the kids tag along can work wonders with any less-than-up-front salesmen…they’re usually so keen to see the back of you all that the usual sales-talk game-playing is kept to a minimum and they’ll tell you what you need to know pretty quickly.

On the flipside, it’s hard to haggle over the trade-in when your children blow your bluff about how good your car really is. No good telling the dealer it runs like a dream when the kids in their inherent honesty remind you about that clunking sound it makes.

After all that, even if you find something that suits, ya gotta go with the to-ing and fro-ing of the figures as both sides try to get the most out of their money. And can I tell you how frustrating it is to get “this close” to driving home the deal, only to reach a roadblock where neither side will move any more.

It’s almost as bad as finding your dream car described on one of those car sales sites, and then finding out it’s sold before you even picked up the phone.

Oh yeah, 4 months is a long time in the search for the perfect car.

But I’ll keep walking the walk and talking the talk and we will hopefully reach a satisfactory conclusion before one or both of our current modes of transportation break down once and for all and leave us stranded somewhere even the roadside assistance won’t wanna come (my Beloved and I are placing bets whose car will go first).

Best case scenario, I will finally win that elusive lottery and be able to simply cruise into the caryard of choice and take two, thanks, in matching colours, if you don’t mind.

Which reminds me, research on that has shown that I might have better luck if I actually bought a ticket once in a while…I only hope the car makes it to the newsagent to do so!

Jx
©2009