Red Dirt Girl in a City World – A Very Expensive Lesson

Well, after spending 6 months in Newman with my gorgeous Mr W., I finally returned to the city for a week … just to check in, recharge … and SHOP!!  I’ll tell you all about my shopping later … but first I just have to tell you about the very expensive lesson I learned yesterday …

Here I was driving down the freeway, phone to my ear, excitedly telling Mr W. about the sexy new underwear I’d just bought when I looked to my right and saw an unmarked police car with their light flashing.  “Oh F***””, I said to Mr W., “It’s the cops”.  I hung up listening to Mr W. laughing … and hoping Mr Undercover Police couldn’t read lips.

I pulled over and waited for Mr Plod to come to the window.  He asked me what my excuse for talking on my phone while driving was (being someone who has always been able to talk my way around fines, so many excuses ran through my head).  I thought about going with something like … “I just had to tell my boyfriend about the sexy underwear I just bought” … or “well, I live in Newman and we don’t have shops and I was so excited about my purchases I just had to ring someone and tell them” … I even considered telling him all about the fact that I haven’t driven an automatic for 6 months, just to try and distract him.  But something told me that none of these were going to cut it.  And quite frankly, he was on the wrong side of the car for me to use the old “undoing the top button” trick (plus, I hadn’t had time to actually put on the sexy underwear).  Anyway … I simply said “it was a work call” – God knows what I was actually going to say work was calling about … a new trend in Orange shirts maybe?

Mr Plod then asked what sort of phone it was.  I had to wonder what that had to do with the price of black lace at Myer … but handed my iPhone over (maybe they charged you more for Nokia or something, I was hoping anyway).  Just as I showed him the phone it “dinged” loudly announcing a text from Mr W.  Geez … are you trying to get me arrested, I thought (thankfully I’d turned off the feature on the iPhone that shows the actual text message on the screen before you open it … although it did take all my self control not to read the text and answer it while being lectured on the dangers of talking whilst on the phone.

He asked for my licence and upon examing it asked if that was my current address.  I nodded … thinking maybe they’d feel sorry for me that I lived in Newman.  Oh no … 10 minutes later (yes, they left me stewing in my car for 10 whole minutes) … the younger of the cops returned with a “traffic infringement” as he so politely put it.  I’m not telling you how much it was … but let’s just say I could buy a whole heap more sexy underwear with it!!!

Take Away Coffee $3.90 (yes that’s right, we’re getting ripped off in Newman) … Flat Shoes $40 (yep that’s right, stilettos are out) … Sexy Underwear $100 … Getting caught on your phone while driving telling boyfriend about said sexy underwear … PRICELESS!!!

pp xx

The Sock Fiasco

When you think of socks, what do you think of?  I think of little pairs of cotton socks, non-descript, unisex … able to worn by anyone, any size, any gender.

And so you can imagine my surprise this morning, when my darling Mr W. informed me that in fact socks are not unisex … and his socks are not my socks.  How did this all come to be you ask.  Ahhhh well let me explain.

Well, I was busy getting ready for a super early start at work and Mr W. was getting ready to walk the dogs.  Upon opening his (our) sock draw he declared, “Kate I have no socks, why don’t I have any socks?.  You bought me 6 pairs a few months ago and now I’m down to 0.5” (holding up a lonely sock).  I opened my (my) sock draw and threw a pair of non-descript black sports socks at him.  “Where are my Nike socks?” he asked (apparently these are special socks).  I laughed and replied “oh I wore those last night”.  Mr W. rolled his eyes …declaring that in fact I can’t just use his socks and I need to get my own.  His suggested shopping list?  10 pairs of explorer socks and 6 pairs of sports socks.  “But explorer socks are expensive!!!”  I said … “Why would I buy my own when I can just use yours?”.  Another rolling of the eyes from Mr W.  I mean, I don’t see the problem.  I’ve been wearing his Explorer socks ever since I came to town.  And the draw is always full!!

I mean, I do have my own sock draw … it’s filled with pairs that I’ve apparently “stolen” from Mr W.’s sock draw … as well as clutch bags, notebooks, old purses and scarves.  It’s a multipurpose draw really.  Hence why I need to share a dedicated sock draw with Mr W.

I honestly don’t see the problem.  We share lots of things, all of which are washed and clean before the other person uses them.  Things like towels, cutlery, plates … and socks!  Apparently, Mr W. doesn’t want my “budgie” feet in his socks.  I won’t tell you the analogy I used to retaliate this one.  He asked me whether I would wear his underwear, to which I replied “well … I would consider it, it does look comfy”.  Apparently he doesn’t feel the same about my underwear.  It’s a shame really, we could be onto something.

And so, in the interest of keeping the love alive, I’ve added several pairs of socks to my shopping list for my Perth trip later this week.  I might even surprise my gorgeous man with some personalised socks … I mean, I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing socks that say “Mr W.” … or would I??

I would love to know your take on our Sock Fiasco.  Do you wear your partner’s socks?  How do they feel about this?

To be continued …

pp xx