I SAY: It all started when my friend The Mild-Mannered Lawyer handed me the gift of two bottles of wine at school pick-up time. It’s hard not to feel a little self-conscious standing in a school playground with a bottle of wine in each hand and at least half the school community looking on. So the minute Mr Justice turned up, I stashed them away into his school bag – which, of course, half the school community watched me do.Β Not wanting that same half of the school community to then see make my seven-year-old son carry my wine, I hoicked his bag onto my back and stepped forward with great confidence straight into a slight dip in the pavement, causing me to stagger in a most unseemly fashion, my legs buckling underneath me and my arms swinging wildly.
THEY SAY: The NDM is drunk. Again.
I SAY: The next morning I had one of those school runs where I was still making my kids’ lunches twenty minutes before the bell was due to ring, standing in my bra and only my bra. Somehow, I managed to get the kids through the school gates on time (and yes, I managed to get dressed as well) but I paid the price back at home when my mouth – like some kind of self-inflating life jacket – exploded into a cold sore. And we all know how I feel about cold sores – not least because it means I really shouldn’t drink alcohol until it’s well past its “rapid expansion” phase. Stupid empire-building cold sore.
Later that afternoon I went to see my doctor about – how can I put this delicately? – the protracted case of the blurty bums I’d been having. The doctor’s response was to send me out for blood tests and to take me off dairy for two weeks. Yes, two weeks without butter. I think this was the point where the light in my eyes went completely out.
And so it came to pass that I found myself as a volunteer at a Bunnings sausage sizzle twenty four hours later. With a cold sore the size of the Roman Empire. And a dairy-free dullness to my eyes. And track marks and bruising on my arm from where the nurse had taken thirty litres of blood.
THEY SAY: The NDM is on the junk.
I SAY: It was then that my trousers started falling down. The particular trousers I had chosen that day are strange in that they start off behaving well, lulling me into a false sense of security. But then I think my weight – like so many beans in a bean bag – must redistribute itself and the trousers start to panic. Now, luckily from the front view, my trouser-failure was covered by my apron. But not from the back. And of course, the money tin and the soft drinks were behind me, resulting in many a sausage sale with me awkwardly trying to get the change without turning around, all the while spreading my legs out as wide was I possibly could to stop my trousers from falling the fuck off completely.
THEY SAY: The NDM is on the junk while she’s serving at the Bunnings Sausage Sizzle.
I SAY: At the end of the sausage sizzle, we were in the process of cleaning up when two guys asked us we had any soft drinks left. We did but they had already been packed into the back of The Suburban Diva’s car a few metres away, where I duly led the two gentlemen to make the transaction.
THEY SAY: The NDM is selling bootleg soft drinks from the back of a car in the Bunnings’ car park to fund her junk habit.
I SAY: Of course, as the two gentlemen walked away, I had to seriously re-adjust my trousers again and at that point I realised that A) I was still holding a fistful of latex gloves the sausage-cooks had been wearing that I’d been in the process of throwing away; and that B) from a distance, these latex gloves may or may not have resembled at least thirty used condoms.
THEY SAY: The NDM is turning tricks in the back of a car in the Bunnings’ car park to support her junk habit.
I SAY: It’s not as bad as it looks!
THEY SAY: Sure it isn’t.
I SAY: No, really! I just need some wine, a shit load of butter and a new pair of trousers!
THEY SAY: We really don’t need to know any more details.
They Say: NDM may have a junk and alcohol habit but she is very funny.
Yes, at least I’m a “happy drunk”, a “happy junkie” and, indeed, a “happy hooker”.
Dear NDM,
Mother Hen here.
Now, now, dear, it isn’t that bad…well, yes it is, but Mother is sure no one would…
Oh let’s face it, it’s time to break out the wine!
Pour Mother a dish and she’ll be right over. Humans should never drink alone.
First of all, you’ve got to drop your pants — immediately — into the nearest donation bin. What did you think she meant?
Next, put some tea tree oil on your beak, right where that ouchie is. No, it won’t feel better right away, but Mother finds that her chicks fall for it every time.
Now, tell Mother all about it. Wait, you already did that. Hmmm, do you have any DVDs lying around with Brad or George or Johnny in them? What are you waiting for girl, open those suckers up and let them out! Now you’ve got yourself what Mother calls a party! Or so she’s heard.
Come by and visit Mother’s nest anytime! The coop door is always open to a chick in need!
Maternally yours,
Mother Hen
http://www.motherhensnest.wordpress.com
Dear Mother Hen,
Your comment somehow made everything all right again… How did you do that? No, don’t tell me. Just pour me another glass of vino and keep talking….
Love
The NDM
*snort*
I LOVE it when it’s not me! π
Yes, it’s always better when it happens to someone else. Why else do you think I write anonymously? It’s so *I* can pretend it’s happening to someone else as well.
You are one funny NDM and, oh thanks god. I feel much better about being caught behind the K-2 toilets by the entire 5th grade with a fellow mum trying on each others’ skirt. Not what it looked like, people. Nothing to see here. X
Where are the K2 toilets? Aren’t they, like, the second highest toilets in the world other than the ones on top of Everest? What the hell were you doing wearing a skirt at that altitude? Sheesh. No wonder people were staring…
Like I said, you are one funny NDM!!
I’m with Mad Cow. Hilarious when it’s not me. Yet another fabulous, well-crafted post. Hope right about now you’re rolling around in $100 notes because you are pure gold, my friend…
The closest to rolling around in $100 notes that I ever get is rolling around in the $100 worth of five cent coins that have collected together under the loungeroom rug.
But still, it’s nice to know that there’s someone out there who wishes it were otherwise. Thanks.
I want to see you in real life now!
I wonder what ‘I’d say’…I’m very judgemental. lol
I expect you’d say “Why, there’s an upstanding member of the local community!” while simultaneously ringing “Crime Stoppers” on your mobile.
Thank you for a wonderful blog you put a very big smile on my face π
I’m very glad to hear it… But hang about! Weren’t you one of the ladies pointing and snickering about me from the other side of the Bunnings carpark?
Dear NDM
I’m so glad your trousers fall down too, I thought it was just mine. We should indulge oursleves and buy a new pair.
Unfortunately, I suspect it’s not the fault of the trousers I’ve been shopping for trousers for weeks and weeks now and have yet to find anything that sits ‘right’ on me.
However, I’m reluctant to resort to an apronectomy because, at the end of the day, I need somewhere to store the butter and the alcohol when I reintroduce them as the major food groups in my daily diet.
Still, I might feel better if I torch the pair of trousers that featured in today’s blog post…
*I* say… I wouldn’t mess with the NDM.. That woman has magical powers!!
… and I’m not afraid to use them….
Hmmm! Glorious post as always but note that you neglected to mention that you were representing the KINDERGARTEN at the sizzle, and what’s more that it has links with the PRESBYTERIAN chuch! It just gets worse…and worse….
Truly can vouch for it all…………I was witness!
I decided to keep the kindergarten out of it. After all, I’ve damaged their reputation enough…
Hands Down My Favourite Post You Have Written.
Oh how I laughed.
Off to read it again
oxoxoxxo
That comment’s kind of like a poem.
I like it.
I like it a lot.
x
I’m used to hanging with the drunk, junkie, bootleggin’, lip-herpied, trick-turning mother crowd. The only difference is Bunnings would point-blank turn them all down from volunteering to serve food, it would violate all health & safety standards.
Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I was the “money handler”. I wasn’t handling the food. I wasn’t even allowed to *look* at the food. The closest I got to anything food-related was pointing (from a safe distance) at the range of complimentary sauces. Suffice to say, I did that with the usual flare that people have come to expect from me (i.e. while simultaneously hoicking up my trousers).
Although relatively new to the NDM site, and not having read *every* post yet (I do try my hardest to get to them all by using your blog as a procrastinating tool of choice during my “working” hours at “work”), I do believe I concur with Mrs Woog and agree that this is my favourite posting so far!
Laughed, snorted (glad I wasn’t the only one), wiped away tears of mirth and revelled in the hilarious visuals. Thanks for sharing you tanked drunkard of ill repute. π
I always know I’ve done well when I’ve managed to illicit a few snorts…
Oh they’re probably just jealous that you’re the “fun mom”, n’est pas?
Hilarious post!
Yeah, I’m the “fun one” with herpes looking longingly at the dairy section in Coles.
woman you are fricken funny. we have a mutual friend, Nik, and I am so glad she told me about your blog. i love it!
ps ta for the sausage sizzle tips, I am partaking in one soon and will be wearing new pants. with a belt.
A belt… all I needed was a belt. Genius! But chances are, I’d needed to have taken it off and people would’ve thought I was about to ‘tie off’ and ‘shoot up’ (or whatever the lingo is supposed to be) while standing in the Sausage Sizzle tent outside Bunnings, representing the local Presbyterian kindergarten. Nice.
hehee, very nice. plus the belt i use is bright red and has a fully adjustable clasp (was my preggers belt). would def draw some looks!
Fwiw, I used to suffer badly with cold sores. One after the other, then I read that eating chocolate puts too much arginine in your body, as opposed to lysine levels. Still with me? I stopped eating chocolate before Easter, and haven’t had a cold sore since. A tragic choice had to be made between Darrel Lea Choc Orange Balls, and avoiding cold sores. People now look me in the eye, instead of fixating on that ugly scab on my lower lip…….. π My prescription-One 500mg Lysine tablet daily, as a preventative. My fee will follow, in a plain envelope……
Fendy, I’ve been on the L-lysine bandwagon since 1992 when I worked in a health-food store and could recite lists of foods that were high in l-arginine off the top of my head.
Apparently peas are one food that is neither high in arginine nor lysine. It is the Switzerland of foods.
Thank you so much. This made me snort out loud. Man, you are funny. x
More snorting! Huzzah!
ps- Had to link to this post. Too good not to share.
The more people who know it wasn’t as bad as it looked, the better. Thanks for linking.
So let me get this right.
You literally have the shits?
Awesome.
Yes, literally. I love it when you can have a condition literally and metaphorically at the same time.
OMG!! Love it, love it, love it!!!!
Thank you. I feel unworthy of so many exclamation marks but will accept them, nonetheless.
I so mis-read that line ‘I was still holding a fistful of latex gloves the sausage-cooks had been wearing’ as ‘sausage-cocks’ – why is that?
Now you’re just adding fuel to the rumours. I thought you were on my side!
I nearly choked on my toast as I read this. With laughter, that is. Not horror. Well, a little horror. As anyone who knows me well would attest, it takes a lot to make me laugh out loud, but NDM, you’ve done it again. Bravo.
It only makes me even sorrier I didn’t volunteer to help with the sausage sizzle. Had I know it was going to be so entertaining…
Yes, two weeks without butter.
how
I mean God woman
how did you pull that off??? you are my new heroine
even if you are on heroin
π
hahaha, my first actual ‘laugh out loud’ for the day. Thank YOU!
I say: At least NDM is turning tricks safely. A good lesson for all. π No glove, no love!
Yay, what a hilarious post!
BAHAHAHA! Life without butter is pretty miserable.
You are so bad. Bunnings, really!
I thought I couldn’t laugh any more, until I started reading all the comments! You have given everyone such a good laugh! I hope you have some new pants now, that make you feel fabulous! Hilarious post! x