I watched My Genius Idea on childrens tv this morning.
Three children each programme have to come up with an invention - there is an expert judge whom picks the best idea to go through to the semi-final.
Shannon age about 9 invented a bed making machine.
This machine was a bed with two large mechanical arms - one on each side of the bed. At the touch of a button these arms take hold of opposite corners of the quilt and pull it up the bed.
At the child's presentation, the judge Tom (did not catch his surname) questioned her about her invention.
TOM - Who do you see this being a benefit to?
SHANNON - It will be more of a benefit tho the disabled than anyone else.
TOM - Suppose someone was having a restless night, flinging their arms about. What would happen if they accidentally hit the start button?
SHANNON - Then it would grab them by the feet and pull them upside-down up the bed.
Nappies They Need Changing
where he left it;
hangs behind the bathroom door.
Some shirts still in a draw.
That special family portrait haunts me,
as does the double bed.
At night I caress the pillow,
on which he had lain his head.
Unpaid bill are mounting.
I'm always in the red.
I juggle with priorities but,
the children must be fed.
Sammy's in his playpen.
The twins frolic about the floor
Claire cries, 'Where is my daddy?'
I miss him more and more.
I take Claire to my bosom
and softly stroke her brow.
'Hey! come help me make the tea,
I have a jar of chicken spread.'
Nappies they need changing
There's washing to be done.
Cooking, shopping, cleaning...
for my children I'll be strong.
I hear footsteps on the gravel path.
He's standing by the door,
with a large bouquet of red roses
and a bottle of Chardonnay.
'Oh darling! how I've missed you.
May I come back to stay?
My angel, if you'll forgive me,
I promise no more to stray.'
To this; I have no answer;
I've heard it all before.
With passion, temper, anger,
I slam the bloody door.
I was brought up to be well mannered and eavesdropping was a definite No! No!
However, for the writer this despicable practice would seem to be acceptable (well it is in some of the writers' self-help books that I have read).
On a bus going to Newcastle yesterday I overheard the following conversation between two 17ish girls.
Girl 'A' was complaining about her boyfriend being selfish and childish.
Well he did go straight from one relationship into another. Not that you are a rebound or anything.
You think I'm just a rebound?
No! I didn't say that. Err... I'll put it another way. Which would you rather be, happy and a rebound or sad and have no-one?
When it comes to volunteering I tend to take one step back.
However, yesterday I picked my seven years old grandson up from school and discovered that he had volunteered me to make cakes for the summer fair. Ooookay! so far not too bad.
Then I'm told by his teacher that he said, 'My grandma makes the best cakes "ever"'.
Although this statement may have given my ego a boost, it also means that I have been committed to the project and have something to live up to.
So for the next few weeks I'll be practicing my baking skills, trying out new recipes.
My poor hips; no chance of dropping a size or two for this summer.
Separate names with a comma.