Mr G: What are you doing?
Me: taking a break from gathering bits. Just check my emails... Delete, delete, delete, ooooh! Six fashion mistakes we're all making...
Mr G: (Looks me up and down) Seven... No. Make that eight. Your toenails and fingernails are painted a different colour.
Me: Shut it, Gok Wan.
We went again on Sunday to watch Crusaders play Gloucester. Much better weather this time, thankfully. Mum and Dad had the boys and Cait and her friend Beth came with us. It was a cracking game, plenty of tries, a little bit of handbags at ten paces, a ref who should take his sponsor's advice and actually go to bloody Specsavers, one sin bin (home), one sending off (away) and a resounding home win. Mr G bought me a Crusaders beanie, which I could have done with the previous week. The next home match we can make is the 6th of September and hopefully they'll stay in a play off position for promotion to the Championship. No simple up or down in rugby league, oh no. The first plays the second, the winner goes up, the loser plays the team in fifth, the third and the fourth play... so in a nutshell you could come fifth in the league and be promoted, and come first and not get anywhere. We're definitely going for a season ticket next year though.
Mr G excelled himself the other night, when answering a friend's call for help on Facebook. Noticing she'd posted seven hours earlier, if anyone had a wallpaper stripper, could she borrow it. I replied that if it wasn't too late, we had one. It wasn't too late, I sent Mr G up with it. Unbeknownst to me... he left the steamer in the car and handed her this...
... deadpan, poker faced. She thanked him, looking very puzzled but too polite to admit the error. He made small talk and eventually left and went outside to talk to her partner, who he had let in on the joke. A few minutes later he put her out of her misery, going back with the steamer. Even then, she was deflecting the blame from him, by saying that she should have been clearer in her post, that it was technically a wallpaper stripper. How does he do it? Prank people and have them think it was their fault too?