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Monday, December 12, 2011

The X Factor Final last night was eye-opening for a number of different reasons. Louis Walsh's hair being just one. For a start it proved that Lisa's ability to predict the winners of TV reality shows is about as concrete as Amelie's hopes of space travel. Having bet me a pound that Aaron wouldn't win Big Brother, she wagered another ten quid that Dougie would lose I'm a Celebrity, and yet was still willing to make a bet with me last night that Marcus would be crowned the X Factor champion. It was like taking candy from a baby. Obviously I didn't think Little Mix would win, but the moment Lisa declared them the losers, I knew I had it in the bag.

The more startling news, however, was the revelation that the winners' first single will be the song ‘Cannonball’ by Damien Rice. Startling, because it's the song we had playing at the hospital when Lisa gave birth to Amelie. It was particularly appropriate, because as Damien sang the line "it's not hard to fall when you float like a cannonball", Lisa was sinking below the surface of the birthing pool.

We served up another portion of Rice on our wedding day, by walking into the registry office to the sound of ‘The Blower's Daughter’, so that album's been with us at every important milestone in our relationship. I plan to put it on in the background when Amelie tells us she's pregnant at 15. So it was something of a shock to hear one of 'our songs' being belted out at Wembley Arena (complete with electronic drums and obligatory key change) by the latest X Factor starlets. I feel slightly soiled.

But on the subject of being soiled by starlets, the breaking news from our living room is that the carpet around our Christmas tree is now littered with fallen stars. I was in the kitchen yesterday afternoon when Amelie walked in and told me that she needed her snippy scissors because her puppies wanted her to make balloons for them. I forget my exact response, but it was something along the lines of ‘Yeah, whatever’.

She's owned a pair of scissors for a few months now, mainly to give her something to hold as she goes running down the hallway. She uses them to cut sheets of paper (mostly shopping lists and work rotas) into small pieces to make pictures for her grandparents. To my knowledge, she's never used them to make balloons for small dogs, but I tend to accept anything she says due to a combination of exhaustion and apathy, so I did as I was told, fetched her scissors from the high shelf, and went back to making a cup of tea. Five minutes later, I walked into the living room to find her cutting all the stars off the Christmas tinsel, whilst saying “Snippy snip snip! There you go, puppies!”. They were slightly more pleased than I was.

So while Lisa got out the dustpan and brush, I punished Amelie by taking her to Lidl for half an hour. Unfortunately it wasn't quite the journey of drudgery I was expecting. On the way back, we met Nora, Harry and Finnegan, and quicker than you could say “There you go, puppies!”, Amelie was heading up the path with a dog on a lead...

Up the Gardner Path
I think I'll hire her out as a dog-walker, and buy myself a new mobile with a better camera.

4 comments:

Phil's Mum said...

Her care for dumb animals is second to none.

A Passer-by said...

"Snippy snip snip! There you go, puppies"  Anyone would think Amelie was working for the local vet, helping to control Brighton's canine population!!

Dave said...

That would work better if she'd said: <span>"Snippy snip snip! There you go, no puppies"</span>

Phil's Dad said...

I'd forgotten about the birthing pool.  No wonder Amelie loves going in the bath, and the paddling pool (when the weather is warmer)!