Chris Pascoe’s Fun Tales
Never work – or indeed, drive – with children or animals,
We’re in the run-up to Christmas now, so there are two things I’d like to talk about – singing toddlers and vampires, having as they do, nothing to do with Christmas… or each other.
Firstly, despite being a contact lens wearer for years, I’ve never got the hang of wearing contact lenses. In the early days of “hard” lenses, which were designed for agony, I had constantly blinking, streaming, red eyes.
I therefore spent my entire early twenties looking like Count Dracula unintentionally winking at girls in the street, and then crying. I’m surprised I wasn’t driven out of Wycombe by a pitchfork-waving mob.
Actually, that still happens to most visitors to Wycombe as a matter of course (*see note below) so I can only guess what could’ve happened to an overly-emotional vampire.
In recent times, lenses have become comfortably soft and you barely notice you’re wearing them. Unless you rub hot chillies into your eyes, but nobody would do that.
I’ve done that. Why, over the years, have I frequently chopped chillies two minutes before putting my lenses in? To “red-eyed crying Dracula” add “screaming banshee”.
This whole combination has been known to terrify small children, especially my toddler niece Alicia. Her family popped round for an early Christmas Day as they’re off to Australia.
Scaring nieces isn’t very good uncling, is it? (a brand new word every week) But then Alicia’s one to talk – her niece-ing could definitely do with improvement, as we were to find out from her mum over mulled wine and crackers.
Alicia is a big fan of dogs. Whenever she sees one she sings, to the tune TinyTears “Little dog, little dog, little dog, little dog…” for about five minutes, or until she sees something better – in my opinion, a cat.
Lately, she’s also started madly clapping her hands. This is fine unless she happens to be sitting in the back of her mum’s car with the window open.
Alicia saw a dog being walked along the pavement in a very orderly manner, and began clapping and singing.
Many dogs are taught to respond to clapping hands by running obediently to the clapper. Secondly, an Irish Wolfhound is not a “little” dog.
Suddenly the dog’s owner was lifted clean off her feet and dragged onto the A40. Alicia’s mother glanced into her mirror and was stunned to see an Irish Wolfhound and a sprinting woman in hot pursuit of her car as she pulled up at traffic lights. She’s still shocked that somebody in such a nice town as Gerrards Cross could use such appalling language.
The upshot is that Alicia’s banned from travelling with her window open, and Lorraine’s asked me to wear glasses. The world is now a safer place.
*Note: This is a lie. The people of my home town of Wycombe are among the friendliest and warmest in the world. Well – definitely in Buckinghamshire.
Alicia saw a wolfhound and began clapping and singing