So Pas moved house a few months ago and being the dutiful friend I said I would help her go through and pack up her mountains of stuff. I turn up with wine in hand (of course) and call out her name….nothing. Again….a grunt then this creature emerges from what I can only describe as a hoarders paradise. The dust cloud settles and I bear witness to the carnage, boxes upon boxes as far as the eye could see, all filled with what appeared to the untrained eye to be absolute piles of crap. Immediately I regret my decision and start thinking of ways I could extricate myself from this warzone. But Pas looks so dishevelled and was in such a code-red level of panic that I couldn’t possibly leave my friend in this time of need. I did the only thing I could do and poured us each a bucket of wine and started opening some boxes. I needed to be ruthless here as Pas clearly thought that keeping 12,000 white board markers (note: no whiteboard in sight) and a metric fuck-tonne of moth infested rainbow rice would be of utmost importance to her future. About an hour, a bottle of wine and many small but extremely painful paper cuts later we are still balls deep in boxes. However, we make the most wonderful discovery. A project completed by 12 year old Pas, which was a diary of sorts detailing her younger life, where she was now and her hopes and dreams for the future. Needless to say, our packing was abandoned as we read through every page with pure glee. It was gold. The first discovery was the gem of the photo I’ve used for this blog entry header image. The artistic direction for this photograph was clearly something along the lines of ‘just act natural’ (nailed it). Wardrobe, on the other hand left many things to be desired. #whenneonwascool #whyaremypantssohigh #parentscanbecruel.
The pages to come brought us even more glee. I had obviously been asked to contribute to this project and provided some solid commentary on life in general.
To Pippa (whoever you are) I do apologise, I’m sure whatever hardships you caused me didn’t warrant being dubbed a ‘spastic pig’ but hopefully time’s a healer and 20 years has helped you move past this trauma.
But wait there’s more! Below is an account from Pas on her #lifegoals for the future.
A 6 bedroom mansion complete with sauna, tennis court, swimming pool, a rumpus room and a table tennis room (clearly loved her racket sports at age 12) isn’t too much to ask right?! My favourite part is the feeble attempt at applying a realistic lens to this fantasy by only asking for a ‘reasonable sized back yard’. Gotta keep it real.
These snippets pale in comparison to most things we got up to as children. Such as ‘The Nappy Testing Experiment’. HYPOTHESIS: That baby nappies would be absorbent enough to trap the amount of urine produced by 9 year olds. CONCLUSION: No. Not even close. ‘The cats really do like water experiment’. HYPOTHESIS: That after throwing the cat into the middle of the swimming pool it will calmly swim its way to safety. CONCLUSION: Erroneous. The cat madly flails around in the middle of the pool for a while, desperately clinging to life until one of us is forced to jump in and get scratched half to death in order to carry it to safety. ‘The Turd Hide-and-Seek Experiment’. HYPOTHESIS: That if we bribed Pas’ little sister to take a massive shit somewhere in the garden, it will remain hidden and there will be no repercussions. CONCLUSION: Wrong on all accounts. Never underestimate Joelle’s 6th sense for mischief and lust for punishment.
Obviously we have grown up since then and our adult experiments are more along the lines of ‘That wine is the answer to all life’s problems’ and ‘That we totally learn from our mistakes’….which are 100% on point and accurate….right….?
Anyway house move was a success and 12-year-old Nic & Pas were tucked in and put to rest firmly in the past…until next time.
Nic xx
Crack up, that’s a good read girls 🙂