The Dulwichmum blog has moved. You can catch up with her at Dulwichmum

If you have kindly linked to this site in the past, I would appreciate it if you could check your link and change to

Saturday, 24 February 2007

Commander and Chief

This evening my little family had been invited to join our friends Francine and Jim and their boys, at their super home in Dulwich Village for a play date. We didn't realise until the men disappeared into another room, that Francine and I had been 'conned' into facilitating a male bonding rugby TV extravaganza. Jim has just installed a super 50inch high definition TV with surround sound, which emerges from the floor of his den at the flick of a switch.

The two men and their boys, were mesmerized as they watched Ireland vs England. Francine, Freya and I were in attendance merely to dispense snacks and beer. What is it about men and gadgets and sport?

Surrounded by male chums and moderately filled with beer - Jim referred to Francine as 'The Commander in Chief' - oh how I laughed..... He said he needed a 'hall pass' to go out for a drink. My blood ran cold however, when I heard James reply - refering to me as 'Mein Fuhrer'. The outragous liar said that he was:

'never allowed out unsupervised',

at which point my own dear son - referred to me as 'Mother Superior'!

No five year old boy ever came up with that expression without the help of his idle father.

Ireland thrashed England to a pulp, and we drove home in silence. I shall invite my Irish mother to lunch tomorrow - to rub salt in the wounds. I had to endure all of this without taking alcohol myself. Lent is much harder than I ever anticipated.


Anonymous said...

Take heart. The men prefer you like that.
I was in a pub (gastro - clearly)on Saturday, with chums (3 men, 2 other women) The men had chosen the venue and coincidentally there was one of those enormous TV screen things (projector I was told scathingly) and the rugby was on...
All of the men had heads turned in the direction of the projector screen thingy. I have to admit the the sight of lots of semi clad muddy lads was strangely alluring!
The conversation was peppered with groans (Ireland scoring and Enlands feeble attempts) and cheering (Englands attempts and Ireland falling over). But one woman who thought she could ingraciate her self with the lads (mine in particular) by cheering, knowing names and positions (excuse me!)found that she had seriously crossed the line into male only territory. They do not like it. The cheeky minx! Feel content with serving snacks and drinks. They'll love you for it and pay back time will be greater!

dulwichmum said...

Dear Anonymous,

My dear mother spoiled Sunday for James by telling him that my own dear son will play rugby for Ireland, saying:
'Why would you want the boy to play for such a bad side!' - all unprompted. I think James would rather have Max play golf now, if he is to take up a sport!