Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Guilty as Charged.

Guilt. There's a word to get the heart pounding on a Tuesday morning (or afternoon)! We've all experienced it at one point or another, so I thought I'd do a post on some of the more common offences that some of us may have committed.

Offence 1: Adjusting the price of goods.
Oh-kay. Please bear in mind that this is for the good of all mankind, and I'm NOT chasing after every man in Ireland with a brush full of tar, but I don't think that a large proportion of the straight male population would appreciate the actual price of some things. You really, really don't need to know that that particular foundation was €25, or that that magazine was €7. You don't need to know the real price of the boots. This would make you sad. The way I see it, when I'm frantically stuffing random shopping bags into the one big Penneys one before I come into the house, I'm PROTECTING you. Which is good. I'm happy because I have a new nice thing, you're happy because you think you're living with the bargain queen. Double happiness! Yay!
Also, bear in mind that I have a speech prepared if you do happen to stumble onto a wayward receipt. It goes something like this: "We didn't go on holidays, I don't buy expensive clothes, I don't go to the hairdressers every week,  I don't get my nails done or facials or go out every weekend or go to the cinema a lot or go to gigs and they're lovely boots and I'd have them forever and shur it's really only the price of a good night out." This is true. Not lying, see? Protecting. PROTECTING.
Sentence: None. Just don't let it get out of hand. Secret shopping - Okay. Secret debt-up-to-your-eyes? Not Okay.

Offence 2: Attack of the Mummy.
I don't know if this is a Mammy thing, or just an Irish Mammy thing, or just a me thing. But I feel really, really guilty if I spend money on myself. Yes, I realise that you've just read through a paragraph which is basically about me treating myself, but believe me that doesn't happen often. If I had a tenner, I'd probably spend half on food and half on my son (the food issue is another kettle of fish altogether - I must have been in the famine in a former life because heaven help us - if we ran out of canned goods, the world would implode). Mammy guilt usually rears its ugly head in clothes shops - I usually get an attack of it in Penneys. I'll see something lovely that I'd like, then Mammy guilt appears and sits on my shoulder, ranting into my ear, saying things like "Well now. That's lovely, but you shouldn't really be spending that on yourself, should you? Why don't you go and have a look at the kid's section? You've nowhere to wear that anyway, the child could do with socks. Or that lovely cute t-shirt. Ah, go on, get him something." So straight to the kids section I go, convincing myself that he needs any more clothes. He doesn't. Same goes for spoiling yourself - I've stopped feeling guilty if I want to spend an hour blogging rather than being Suzy Homemaker. Suzy needs me-time too!
Sentence: A happy Mammy means a happy child.

Offence 3: I Don't Like Her Because You Do.
I'm going to use The X Factor as an example for this. The other night I was less than impressed when himself was banging on about how gorgeous Tulisa's eyes were, and I said something less than complimentary about her. Which was mean. And also not true. I do like her. I think she's nice, and pretty. So why couldn't I just suck it up and agree with him? She's hardly going to jump out of the telly á la The Ring and leap on him, is she?  You think male pride is bad? Try being me. It's exhausting trying to be right all the time.
Sentence: Ladies are pretty. Men are pretty. Women will look. Men will look. People are beautiful.

Offence 4: Letting Party You Overrule Sensible You.
I don't know if this is more guilt, or embarrassment. I'm going to err on the side of mortifying. You're out for the night, having a laugh, having a few drinks, dancing, making instant best friends in the bathroom, talking utter scour, and then you do it. You have the BEST idea in the world. Every alarm bell in your head is ringing, the tiny voice voice of sober, sensible you, is somewhere in the back of your head, screaming "don't do it! It's not funny!". And then you do it. And it's HILARIOUS. Everyone laughs. You're the hottest thing since sliced bread. You're gas. You go home feeling delighted with yourself, until you turn on your laptop the following morning and read the only sentence guaranteed to send your heart crashing down to the tips of your stamped-on toes. "XXX tagged you in a picture." Ground. Open. Swallow. Now. Going out now is like being under bloody surveillance.
Sentence: It's alright to numb Sensible You, but for christ sake, don't kill her. Party You won't help you in the morning.

Offence 5: Not Taking a Compliment.
I am completely incapable of taking a compliment, should the occasion arise. "You look lovely." "Ah, jaysus, I don't." "You do, I love your top." "This oul thing? I don't even like it." "You look great." " I don't. But you do." "Ah, god, no, I don't, I look desperate." I think we're all afraid that if we say "thanks", that everyone will think "Jaysus, ego on your wan, she thinks she's gorgeous now." LADIES!!! I've learned that the more you put yourself down, the more people will stop trying to build you up. Take this recent exchange between himself and I. "You look lovely." "I don't, I look huge." "You don't look huge, you're not huge." "I feel huge in these trousers." "Well change them then." "Do you think I should change them?" "I don't give a fuck what you do with them, I want to go." Fair enough.
Sentence: If you think you look nice, you look nice. And say thank you when you get a compliment!

Identify with any of the above?

S xx

1 comment:

  1. Brilliant! Really enjoyed that blog post. Keep up the great writing. You're not the only woman who thinks like that. My Mrs is the same. LOL! at Mammy Guilt.


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