I made the product and salted caramel sauce on the day of the
party, neatly plated and in a container with a carry handle for easy manoeuvrability
as we were catching a train to the party (so we could all smash some alcohol).
After waiting an age for Miss Marvellous
to finish her bloody make-up, we finally locked the house up and left for the
station. Of course, our train was
pulling out of the station when we got there.
Then, as we’re standing on the platform waiting for the next train,
which would arrive in about seven minutes, Captain Fantastic frowns at me and
says “weren’t you supposed to bring something to eat?”
“Shit, shit, shit. I left the brownies at home!” I exclaim in
horror. Boy Wonder decides to save the
day, “I’ll go!” He takes off at a sprint
and I am sure he will not get there and back in time. I look at Miss Marvellous and say “Jeez, I
hope he carries the container horizontally so the brownies don’t end up sliding off the
plate.” Miss Marvellous decides to send
Boy Wonder a text message which I find out later reads: Hey, don’t
fuck up the cakes. Communication between these two siblings is up
there with the Bogans. I start to panic a little bit so I ring Boy Wonder and
tell him not to worry if he misses the train as there is another one coming in
20 minutes. I’m more worried about my
brownies so I ask him to please try to carry the container horizontal.
After I hang up, I start stressing about
everything so I’m jumping from foot to foot in anticipation when we hear the
announcement that the train is approaching.
Holy Crap! Now I’m pressed up
against the fence looking for him when I see Boy Wonder round the corner. He is running like the clappers and the
fucking container is vertical!
Aaaarrrggghhh! His arms a pumping
back and forth with the container swinging vertically and I can just imagine
what is happening to my brownies inside…are smashed brownies a thing? I want to say something but the train has
arrived and he’s running up the ramp and I actually want him to make it. He runs into the carriage as the doors are
closing and hands me the fucked up product, then drops into a seat; The Captain
drops beside him. Miss Marvellous and I
move down the carriage to a couple of free seats. I eye her and look at the container on my lap
and she gives me a look that translates to “Shit!”
Sweat starts pouring off Boy Wonder
and he looks pale. He is seriously
dripping sweat everywhere and his tee is stuck to him and he looks for all
intents and purposes like he has been for a swim in his clothes. The train pulls into a station and a family
disembark, leaving a group of four seats free, so we call the boys over and
we’re sitting as a family. I tentatively
open the container to retrieve some paper towel I had wrapped the jar of extra
salted caramel sauce in, and start to dab at my poor son’s sweaty neck. I now remember that I have also forgotten the
birthday gift and silently berate myself for being such a forgetful git. I announce my stupidity to the family. Miss Marvellous rolls her eyes, The Captain
shakes his head and Boy Wonder is silently, non-judgmentally sweating up a storm
beside me.
Miss Marvellous says something to me
and suddenly Boy Wonder has Tourette’s and is glaring at us angrily because we
have the audacity to speak. I ask if he
is ok and he barks at me with all the hostility of a raging bull, “I feel sick,
I’m all sweaty and gross and I just want to get off at the next station and go
home.” I gently say that he can’t really
do that as we’re expected at this party and he just rounds on me and rages
“Look at me! My shirt is stuck to me and
I’m disgusting and I’m going to stink!!”
Jesus, where is this coming from?
The Captain is scrolling through pictures on his phone, not giving a
single gram of fuck; he randomly shows Miss Marvellous some pictures from his
cache. Miss Marvellous gives her father
a moment of her attention but she is having none of her brother’s rage and she
tells him to calm down but he turns on her too and says “I just ran all the way
home and got those things!” nodding at the container in my hand. Miss Marvellous tells him that we told him not
to stress because there is another train.
If looks could kill, Miss Marvellous’ head would have exploded all over
the train. Boy Wonder feels unappreciated
and misunderstood. Nobody voices the fact that he volunteered
because the rage has been unleashed and he’s a man-child now. Miss Marvellous glares back at him and
chooses to stay quiet because he is outrageously angry and marinating in his
own testosterone. Boy Wonder is still
raging beside me “I am not going inside until someone brings me a freaking
towel and some deodorant. I mean it, I
am NOT going in!” I soothingly tell him
I will go in and get those things and it will be ok. I try to lighten the mood by laughing about
the messy product within the container and to my horror; Boy Wonder gives me a
death stare and an expletive. Still
raging, “I did this to myself to help you!”
I’m horrified into speechlessness because he has never been rude like
that before. I’m still blinking at the
back of his head when the anger just leaves him and he looks at me sheepishly
and starts cracking jokes.
The Captain shows Miss Marvellous
another picture and says “here’s a pic of you with your sister.” Miss Marvellous guffaws because he has shown
her a picture of Boy Wonder with long hair.
Boy Wonder thinks it’s funny and gives his father some skin. I’m still reeling from the insult.
We pull into the station and as I
stand to leave, the lid comes off the container and brownies go
everywhere. I catch most of them (and
the attention of most of the train as I yelp and rattle around with the brownie
container) but about 10 fall all over the floor. Miss Marvellous takes the container from me
because she thinks I’m a clumsy dolt and doesn’t trust me to get what is left
of the smashed brownies and goo to the party without flinging them everywhere
like a monkey flinging shit. We collect
about 5 of the fallen brownies before Miss Marvellous barks at us to get off
the God damned train and leave the others on the floor for some lucky bastard
to discover. We deposit the collected
brownies in the bin make our way out of the station. The text message arrives
from Miss Marvellous to Boy Wonder about the brownies. They both laugh because it’s hilarious that
it came through 40 minutes after the fact.
I’m not laughing – my brownies are fucked.
We finally make it to the party and I
go in and ask for male deodorant but Boy Wonder is telling me it is no longer
necessary. I think to myself, “It bloody
is, mate, because if you start to stink you might lose your shit again and I
can’t take anymore teenage rage.”
Everyone calms down and we enjoy the
party. I tell them we will drop the gift
by the next day and everything is ok.
Miss Marvellous consumes a decent quantity of alcohol and finds herself
dancing with a bunch of 40+ year olds to music from the 80s. Some drunk chick keeps asking Miss
Marvellous, repeatedly, like every few seconds, about passwords. I am in my
element, a little tipsy and dancing like nobody is watching…but Boy Wonder is
watching. He is embarrassed by my
dancing. He tells me this many times in
the train all the way home. I tell him I
don’t care, I dance how I dance and he can get stuffed (I’m still a little
stung by his expletive insult on the way in).
We discuss the antics of the drunk people at the party, one of which is
a 6ft 7 giant who was dirty dancing with his wife. Apparently this bloke, all hunched over like
a dog taking a shit, arms flailing everywhere and dancing like a knob was ok,
because it was funny. Mine was just shit
dancing with a very high level of embarrassment. He mentions crumping…I did not crump. I don’t crump because the last time I did so
in the kitchen (completely sober, mind you), I put my back out. I’m too old for that shit.
Sigh, so much shit happening.
Sigh, so much shit happening.
