I should have known really because the Long Suffering Husband and children are always saying, "Well, you're wrong!" It's always a final ending to an argument and every time I make a slightly risky comment to a colleague she rolls her eyes at me and says, "You're just wrong, you are!"
The first of the three messages came via Twitter. A journalist was getting his knickers in a twist about an article in the Guardian. http://www.theguardian.com/politics/2014/jul/13/labour-peer-letters-boy-questions?guni=Keyword:news-grid%20main-1%20Main%20trailblock:Editable%20trailblock%20-%20news:Position2 He called it a witch hunt. I was a bit confused, so I tweeted him to say that I didn't know who it was about and that I had read it as an investigation into allegations. I didn't expect a reply (people with blue ticks don't reply to normal people) but I got one and I'm wrong because I can't read (apparently). The funny thing is that his response made me want to google it and now I know who they are talking about and I think a witch hunt might be needed. If I was wrong then I'm glad - go hunt that witch The Guardian!
The next two incidents happened in Marks and Spencer (where I was trying to buy a bra in yet another size - I think I have the full range now). If you haven't read this blog before then you might not know that I have a morbid dislike of bra buying. All I really want is a bra I can wear all day without crying. I have been measured so many times (each time being told a different size) that you might suspect I had a thing for having my breasts touched by middle aged shop assistants. This time I decided to go it alone. I took lots of different sizes into the changing room and was pretty certain I'd worked it out but was struggling to find a style that wasn't a bit flappy at the top, which is a problem I've had since I first started buying bras, so I thought I'd ask. "If it's not too rude then I have to say that's just something that happens with age as everything begins to sag," she said helpfully. When I pointed out that I'd always had that problem she told me I was wrong, it's definitely an age thing and it must be saggy. Somehow I ended up being measured again and although I had found a good fit she recommended a non padded bra, which would move with me. "You can feel like you're going to pop out of the padded bras," she said, "which is fine when you're twenty but not when you're fifty." I didn't want to tell her that I'm not fifty in case she told me I was wrong again so I said, "I just want a bra I can wear all day without crying." She brought back one that, "We all wear here. You can do anything in them." I was nearly very wrong because I wanted to suggest some things you could do in them but I stopped myself in time.
I was out of the changing room, feeling battered but relieved when another shop assistant came up to me and said (in quite a loud voice). "You've got your top on inside out. I wanted to tell you before everyone noticed that you're all wrong!" There was complete silence, while the whole shop stopped to look at the wrong fifty year old lady.
I think I might need help. Does anyone know of a cure for being 'wrong'?
No comments:
Post a Comment