The other night we came home to find a very strange message on our answering machine.
“There is a naked man in my garden,” spoke a child-like, slightly-accented, other-worldly voice that sent shivers down my spine.
“Who the hell is that?” my husband asked.
I had no idea. So we listened to the message again. And again. And the more we listened to it, the eerier it became. Like the “Have you checked the children?” phone calls of slasher films past.
Anyway, after a brief investigation, it turns out it was just a text message my mother had accidentally sent to my landline (instead of my mobile). And that the message was actually “There is an echidna in my garden” but the automated voice programmed to speak the text out loud had rendered it “a nekked na”, which sounded very much like “a naked man”. Trust me on this.
Now, we are no strangers to such verbal confusion in this household. For a long time, a toddler Mr Justice maintained that the trains of Sodor were managed by the “Fucking Roller” (aka “The Fat Controller”). And Tiddles McGee has, on more than one occasion, run around the house shouting “Fucky Fuck!” but thanks to the accompanying internationally-recognised hand gesture for a duck, I’ve been able to tell shocked onlookers that of course he’s quacking and not pretending to be his mother, say, on the school run.
And so it is little wonder that my mother’s spoken text message got me thinking and we all know how dangerous that is. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could have myself good old fashioned prank phonecall fun with that automated voice. You know, the Noughties Equivalent of ringing a random stranger to ask them “Is your fridge running, sir? Well, you’d better run after it!”. And yes, thirty years on, I can tell you I’m still laughing about that one.
And so I thought I could start sending prank texts to people’s landlines. For example: “Suck my big one”. Which I could then claim was supposed to be “Sack the Bhagwan”, even though he’s been dead for almost twenty years and quite possibly beyond the reach of any existing labour laws. Or I could resort to texting my favourite misheard lyric of all time “You might as well face it you’re a dick with a glove” and say I was merely quoting Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love”. Or I could pass “You Arse Clown!” off as “U.R.’s Crown!” or “Boobies!” as “Boo! Bees!” or “Bum Breath” as, er, “Bun Breadth”… But still, imagine the possibilities, peoples. Imagine…
And in case you’re wondering, next time I see my mother, I’m totally checking the SENT box on her mobile phone to see what she really texted me. As if I’m not onto her and her little mind game. Ha! An echidna in my garden, my R’s…
Not Drowning, Mothering. 
My eldest spent many a happy day when she was 2-ish chanting ‘facking fox’ , which really was I have to admit her attempt to say what her dear mummy and daddy said sooo often. I’m sure you – or the text messaging service – can work that one out.. and very possibly so did the chilcare provider, friends, grandparents ecetera when we tried to palm them off with some codswollop about a character in a bedtime story.
And funnily enough we were just talking about that text messaging service today. Whatever she/it says it is always utterly creepy. burrurruughu (shudder). With Halloween approaching in a month or so leaving lovely little messages like ‘I’m coming to get you’ or ‘don’t look outside I’ve got a surprise for you!’ might seem appropriate.
oooh oooh how do you do it? wait…i think i only know my grandma and mums landline…damn…
You never fail to put a smile on my dial, and being that we are on the seventh day of school holiday joy (possibly said with a strained grin and note of sarcasm) that is no mean feat.
That is genuinely disturbing. Reminds me of David Lynch’s Lost Highway.
Misheard lyrics:
“Every time you go away
You take a piece of meat with you”
“Oh Oh, me ears are alight” (The Israelites by Desmond Dekker)
My boy recently informed me that Spongebob’s friend was gay. Wha-at? A few repetitions later and Spongebob’s friend was Gary.
Do you know what I love most? The fact that your mum text you to tell you about her plant. That is freaking adorable.
Back in the day of the pager before texting made it big this was me and my friends favourite game (not texting about plants – the ‘sounds like’ game). We would see what we could get Pager lady to say out loud and type into her paging machine – lots of euphamisms and pages to people with exotic names like Cunter Shiteater (Mr).
Good times.
I really need to learn how to spell…
Oh you said ECHIDNA – that totally sounded like the echinacea fact my mum texted me the other day… They’re rampant I tell you.
There’s an echidna in my bottom….
Out of the mouths of babes and naughty mothers.
Another one of those NDM posts which reduces me to snorting with laughter! BTW – I recently discovered those misheard lyrics are called mondegreens. Google it for instant laughs.
Thanks for the tip Muliercula.
I did a little googling and my favourite for its aptness to the life of the NDM was;
Constipated cross-eyed bear
(A consecrated cross I’d bear)
For a long time in our house the “fat controller” was the “fuckin stroller”! Now I’m wondering if the creators of TTTE were up to something!
I simply must join in on the good cheer of your fans. I am new to the world of NDM, both in the sense of having just found out about these blog-thingy-mi-jigs, and in my recent introduction to flailing wildly about in the watery depths of motherhood.
And as many a commentators have said before me: I love it (your blog, that its, not flailing wildly). This post in particular made me laugh out loud, or should I say LOL because we are on the internet? I don’t know. But bravo.