Wordy Wednesday

So what if other blogs have 'Wordless Wednesday'? I like to be different. Anyway, I don't take very good photographs.

So, what I thought was I'd record some of the conversations that go on around here. I have two aims in doing this:

1. To ensure that someone, at some point, realising what I have to put up with, will take pity on me and offer me a way out. Or at the very least, an all-expenses paid trip to Paris or New York or some other exotic location.
2. To encourage everybody else, by making them realise that their own lives are far more normal than they suspected

And anyway, it gives me a chance to use this fantastic graphic:

I'll ease you into this with a fairly normal conversation (don't worry, there won't be too many of those), which took place between me and the Football Fanatic over the weekend while watching Match of The Day.

Her: It's never three years since I sat here eating that Pot Noodle is it?

Me: Which Pot Noodle?

Her: The one I was eating the night of Evra's debut match. Chicken and mushroom I think it was.

I'm interupting this conversation here to say - I know. It's pitiful isn't it? I mean, Patrice Evra. He's okay for a left-back, but it's hardly like remembering what you were doing on George Best's debut is it? Or even Rooney. Although I do know what she was doing the night of Rooney's debut. Shaking hands on a deal with two Turkish ticket touts outside Old Trafford. And that's £130 I never saw again. But I digress......

Me: How on earth can you remember what you were eating?

Her: Some people remember what they were wearing for certain events. I remember what I was eating. For instance, the night we won the Champions League we were having steak and onions.

Me: Well I don't remember that.

Her: Why would you? You were out in the street doing the conga seconds after the final whistle.

Me (fondly): Oh, yes! I remember that.

Her: Mum?

Me: Yes?

Her: D'you think they'll win it this year?

Me: I hope so kiddo, for your sake.

Her: If they get to the final, can I go to Moscow to watch it?

Me: Certainly not.

Her: Mum?

Me: Yes?

Her: You're not going to put this on your blog are you?

Me: As if I would.

See! You feel REALLY normal now don't you? I knew you would.

I must admit I have very little interest in food at all, so other peoples' obsessions with it baffle me somewhat. Not that I'm suggesting that anyone has an obsession on the scale of this lot. Although I do know RC often reminisces about a feta and shrimp pizza she once ate in San Fransisco.......

And let's face it - it doesn't look like any of the Football Fanatic's obsessions are going to go away. I can see it now, when she's a really old lady being interviewed on national television, after having achieved her life's ambition, they'll say:

'Can you remember the day you swooped into the Manchester United boardroom in your Mahnolo Blahniks to take total control, having bought the company with the profits of your best-selling novel?

And she'll say, fondly:

'Ah...yes....that was a Double Cheeseburger Meal Deal with extra fries from McDonald's and a plate of my mother's steak and kidney pie............'