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| November 14 2001 Wednesday My mother asked me what I wanted for Christmas. What I really want is an Atomic Kitten but unless there really is a Father Christmas I don't think there's much chance of getting one, so I told her I wanted a new digital camera for my PC. She asked me how much they were and I said you could get the one I wanted for about £300. She said: 'Three hundred pounds, you must be joking, do you think money grows on trees?' I usually let it go whenever she says this, which she does very often, but this time I didn't. I said: ' Yes mother, I do think that money grows on trees, but rather than climb a tree to pick the abundant ten pound notes hanging temptingly from its branches, or simply stand at the bottom of the tree and wait for the wind to blow them off, I prefer to get up at seven-o-clock every morning to deliver newspapers, even when it's pissing down with rain, for my money.' I don't think she'll be saying it again for a bit. My father still hasn't apologised to the postman and we haven't had any mail for a week. He made me go to the Post Office to collect it. There were eighteen letters. I could see this turning into another thing that would 'make a man of me' so I lost them on the way home. My father said: 'You're an idiot, what are you Adrian?' I said:'I'm an idiot.' It didn't feel any better, but I bet he doesn't send me again. Adrian two, Parents nil. |
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