5 September 2012
So there I was hanging out my best knickers, ones that require only one peg, and I hear that familiar "hi!"
"Oh hi! How are you?" standing in clear view of my washing line. It looks like laundry from Agent Provocateur. I am pleased at my lovely display. No flesh coloured comfies in sight.
Before I tell you the rest of the conversation, I should tell you that in the not too distant past I told her how my husband had shrunk a centimetre (in height!) at his annual medical.
"oh fine. I was going to cut the grass today, but I'm allergic to it aren't I? " she says
"I thought your dad came over and did it, when Peter was away ?" I say
"it's driving me crazy, I can't wait until the weekend." she says
"oh I'm sure you can manage a few more days" I say laughing
Our conversation continues with general chit chat about the kids etc when she starts telling me that her husband, Peter, has shrunk a centimetre.
"really ?" I say. " How bizarre, John has too"
"really?" she says "Peter was measured and he's shrunk, don't know how it happened"
Unable to contain myself any longer "oh no we must live in the incredible shrinking men street, wonder who's next?"
Joy laughs at how weird it is. Not as much as how I am inside. Wonder what similar story she'll have next week....
Postcards From The Hedge #3 • Opuss № I