Waving My Flaming Sword at the Football: Or How To Make Friends and Influence People

"So what sport is this I'm watching?" I asked my neighbour as we nursed our finely chilled sav blancs, nibbled on a parmesan risotto ball and peered through the expanse of glass to the floodlit field below. "There's no water so I know it can't be swimming."

Can I be forgiven for my complete lack of interest in Friday night's football? I mean, there's been such a lot of sport on this week the last thing I felt like doing was missing my beloved scrapbooking night for a corporate thingy in the President's Box watching The Power play Collingwood. This is the only way I will go to AAMI Stadium though. I'm happy to sit on the Terraces for the local matches and get on the ground for a kick between quarters but I find the plastic seats and distance from the ground at AAMI too remote and sterile. If I'm going there I want to be in a Box with refreshments on tap.

It was a star studded night: The Minster for Education came across and chatted to us. Himself had worked with her some years ago when she was Lord Mayor and he had been involved in organising the Adelaide Millennium Event; The President of Collingwood FC Eddie Maguire was swanning in and out in between recording game stats and chuckling to himself like a schoolboy; there were ex footballers, lawyers, Advisors to the Minister and even The Attorney General.

I told him how to bring up his kids.

Well, he did ask.

I don't think I asked him if he was a Man or a Mouse though, that was the North Adelaide Board Member and retired investment banker. His 17 year old son won't go to school and he is planning on taking him out of the expensive private school he's (not) attending.......at the end of the year.

"Are you ready to go?" asked Himself hopefully as I swung my flaming sword from side to side with gay abandon.
"What, already?" I queried....."who's winning?"
"Errrr the game has been over for some time dear. Hadn't you noticed that most people have left?"

I guess that's the problem with the whole drinking and double vision thing. You don't notice the room is emptying. Perhaps Himself will be less keen for me to accompany him next time and I can go to scrap booking instead?

In my defence I will say that the Attorney General wanted the address of this blog site to show his wife and mother-in-law. Fortunately I wasn't that inebriated.

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Update:

After dreaming this afternoon that No2 Son had come home, all smiles and apologising and making out it was nothing, I was awoken to the news that he is paying board to his ex-stepmother, does his own laundry and is helping around the house. Or maybe that's what he's meant to be doing. Either way I feel vaguely, nay definitely, irritated by this. Perhaps it's time to start creating a guest room after all.

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