I woke up this morning because one of the builders opened my bedroom door and stuck his head in. I didn’t have my contacts in, so I can’t tell you which one. But to be fair, I was awakeish anyway- the builders like to play Magic FM to serenade me in the morning.I have never liked Adele more than when re-interpreted by a Lithuanian builder at 6.30am. The mondegreens are exceptional.*
I rolled off my inflatable bed (I have cunningly placed my own inflatable matress on top of my sisters, who is away. It’s something like sleeping on a lilo that is floating steadily out to sea. My pillow keeps falling as I move ever further away from the wall, and when I scramble across to go to the loo my weight on one side flips the whole mattress up. It’s very good for the reflexes) and popped into the bathroom. There is no lock on the bathroom. In fact, because of its recent painting, it is quite difficult to even close the door fully. So before I take a shower I check on the builders. (This is both so they are spared seeing me naked, and also because I want to be friendly).
There are three builders. They know more about me than they should. I know nothing about them, but I have not let this hamper me in the slightest. My favourite builder is called Kris (after Kris Kristofferson, of ‘Me and Bobby McGee’ fame. And some other things, probably). Kris is cool. I can tell this, because he wears his baseball cap backwards. Also, he raises his eyebrows ironically when I model various outfits for him in the morning. (I like to use Kris as my personal stylist. Please see hat-wearing comment for his outstanding credentials).
The second builder is old, and looks at me with weary, seen-it-all-before eyes when I ask why my t-shirt is being used as a mop. (My highly unsympathetic friend insists this is because my clothes are too ‘rag-like’, and it is my fault).
The third builder I have actually spoken to. The first time I met him, I said in passing that I was hungry. (I would like to clarify that I did not say this to him, but near him). ‘Go into my car.’ ‘I’m sorry?’ (I thought perhaps he was about to embark upon a brilliant rendition of Hasselhoff’s cover of ‘Jump in my car’. I was THRILLED). ‘Yes, in my car. There is pizza.’ ‘Brilliant.’ As you can see, I am having a lovely time with my new friends. Do feel free to pop by for our performance of Crystal Gayle’s, ‘Doughnuts make my brown eyes blue’.
* A mondegreen, and those of you who are here should be ashamed, is the correct term for a mishearing or misinterpretation of a phrase in such a way as gives it new meaning. Famous examples include ‘Scuse me while I kiss this guy’ from Hendrix’s ‘Purple Haze’.