This morning, as I was walking down the stairs, I felt a squish, then a loud clunk, and then in slow-motion I saw liquid gushing all over the laminate floor of the living room.
My mum had made me a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea. And she’d left it on the stairs for me.
Obviously I didn’t expect that, because leaving consumable substances directly in my path is a stupid thing to do. So I walked happily downstairs, proceeding to step in my sandwich and send the cup flying. (This is made worse once you understand the size of the cup I use to drink tea out of – it holds 1.5 pints of liquid.)
My mum and I locked eyes for a moment, both of us angry. I broke the silence with an outraged, “WELL WHY DID YOU PUT IT ON THE STAIRS?”
In subsequent retellings of the story to friends and family, my mum takes a light-hearted approach, choosing to share it from the ‘Alex doesn’t look where he’s going’ angle, accompanied by a laugh and a ‘what is he like’ expression. Thinking this quite unfair, I tend to go with the more obvious ‘my mum left my food ON THE STAIRS’ point of view.
When people imagine what nerimon gets up to, it’s presumably more glamorous than this.
x
