Wednesday, November 15, 2006
And the Oscar Goes to.....
Did you ever have one of those days when the bed was too warm? Those raindrops outside fell a little too hard on the window pane and the slow low growl of the wind was an omen for worse weather to come, when you held your bladder to the point of pain rather than leave the cocooned hibernation to the dirty mornings weather?. This was just one of those days. I was 14 years old, I had the worst day of the week in timetabled lessons ahead of me; Double period of Maths followed by double period of Gaelic and after lunch was Physical Ed and a double period of Home Ecconomics. I just couldnt face it and knowing that my friends in school where going to try and 'pull a sickie' for the day in it, also did not give me the incentive to face the day without the comedic comeradary we braved on such days.
What made it even harder for me that I would have to convince two parents not one, that I was too unwell to attend school. It was a tall order and under the merciless scrutiny of my father who was on shore leave it did not bode well to accomplish such a fete. I lay in bed wondering how on earth I could give a convincing yet empathetic performance. Everyone was still asleep and it was about 6:30am. No use in feigning a tummy ache I would have to go through the motions of getting dressed and being pushed out the door under tearful protest of my general wellbeing. No, such a morning would warrant something that little bit extra..
It was a 'eureka' moment, suddenly in few seconds my questions where crystalised in an antidote for the performance of my life to date. I had little time to execute my plan so I pushed back the covers and gently padded down the stairs so as to keep my slumbering family in situ. First things first, from under the sink I pulled out a stainless steel bowl, this was used on such occasions where a bucket was being used to mop the floor or if someone was unwell and needed to vomit and was too ill or too far away to make it to the toilet. Yes you guessed it I was making up my own vomit from everyday ingrediants in the kitchen. You heard correctly , too much of a coward to try and make myself sick by jamming my fingers down my neck and to be honest it seemed too much trouble , besides I love a challange and I wanted to see how well I did in the special effects department ( hey I was 14 and needed to get career motivated, seek out a vocation so I could drive my studies towards) Now for consistancy I used 'ready break' which is kinda fine flaked oatmeal. I needed something for color -1000 salad island dressing complete with little 'lumps' to give it a 'gruel' texture and for extra consistancy and scent - stewed apple (home made apple sauce) and vinegar was applied. And the finishing touch warm milk to infuse and curdle.
'jude' I said to myself 'You're a fucking genius!' the plan was to walk by my mother as she made her way downstairs and walk to the bathroom to flush it down the toilet.I heard shuffling upstairs, Mum was getting up , I tickled my throat with two fingers to give gagging sound effects as her bedroom door opened. At the crucial moment she hit the last stair step I walked by her 'whats that she said 'Ive just got sick' and I emptied the concoction down the toilet when I came out Mum said ' go on back to bed' inside I punched the air and I passed my father on the stairs, he looked at me suspiciously , it unnerved me. Around Noon time my father came in to the room and said I dont know how you did it but you fooled your mother but not me, but I cant be angry at you - full marks for trying and he cackled laughing going out the door, I was rumbled but I knew when he left the room his admiration for me had hit new levels