I was sat round the table tonight with my kids eating a Chinese takeaway and having myself a glass of vino because I think I deserve it after my nerves took such a battering today with the belly-dancing lark.  The football was on at my little boys insistence, although it has to be said that no-one was taking much notice of it.  Instead my kids were taking turns at asking me the most bizarre questions:

“Mum.  What would you rather kiss?  A wall or a monkey?  You have to give an answer.”

“Mum, would you rather be stuck in a car for ninety days or be stuck in your mum’s belly and never be born?  You have to give an answer.”

And many more similarly strange questions.

Anyway, the inevitable burping competition began and – feeling too weary to dish out a table-manners speech and being long since resigned to the fact that we have become The Simpsons, I pretended not to notice and absorbed myself in the football. 

The game was at the half-time stage and they were showing all the contenders for goal of the tournament.  I’m getting to my point.  It was amazing to hear the commentators shouting out in such manic excitement at the goals.  Words like  “spectacular!”,  “fantastic!”,  “superb!”,  “Oh what a beautiful goal!”  being screamed out, the commentator’s voices hoarse with all the gratuitous shouting. 

Well, I just sat there astonished, thinking to myself… “Huh??  It was just a goal.  What was so skillful about that?  I could do that.  That looked easy.  80% luck. How can people get so dramatically passionate about that?”   What is that all about?

So, I’ve decided.  I just don’t get it.  I don’t understand the game. I rooted for England in this tournament and I’ll always root for my home team but that’s about as much interest as I can gather.  I’d rather spectate at my children’s burping contest.  Much funnier.

I wanted Germany to win tonight incidentally.  I’ve no idea why.  And I want France to win tomorrow but that’s only because we are going to France next week for our hols and it will be good to go to a country that is high on celebration, dontcha think?  Otherwise, I would have no preferences.


4 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by misslionheart on July 9, 2006 at 12:38 pm

    How DID the belly dancing go?


  2. My four children are grown now–the youngest is 35, and it is quite astounding what nice manners they have, as I recall distinctly contests similar to yours, such as belching and burping. Hang in there. Glad you relax with it sometime. They will turn into upstanding, wonderful human beings. Think. How could they not, seeing you are their parent!

    Enjoyed reading this.


    Shirley Buxton


  3. Thank you Shirley. That’s a really warm and kind thing to say. I’ve also enjoyed reading your blog…about your children and your grandchildren. They’re so lucky to have such a lovely lady in their life.

    misslionheart…the belly-dancing went well thanks. Much better than I expected.

    And Italy won!! Bah!


  4. Posted by misslionheart on July 10, 2006 at 12:01 am

    I wanted France to win, even though they smell. But when I saw the faces on the Italian fans, I cried!:oops:


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