Worst Thing Ever: Dinner Hair

Senior Series Dinner Time

The older I get, the crankier I'm becoming. I have all these Things That Annoy Me that go on a mental list inside my mad head, and high up there is the adding of extra 's' onto words that just do not require them. This is just about enough to make my brain want to explode in a million fussy pieces. Someone said 'Wagamammas' to me the other day and I actually didn't hear anything else she said, such was the fizzing inside my head and the wringing together of my anguished hands.

Of course, anyone who knows me also knows about this little 'quirk', so you can imagine what nights out are like. Pints of 'millers' are ordered,  pals ponder going to 'RiRas' etc.

But the worst. The very, very very WORST on my long list of 'oh I cannot STAND that', is Dinner Hair. Oh lord holy God above and mercy Mary mother of the saints, to me, there is no greater beauty transgression than smelling stew from someone's barnet. This, dear people, is what extractor fans, windows and fresh air are there for. I daresay shampoo would also aid in this situation. And hats.


I was reminded of this awful affliction the other day when someone walked past me and there was an unmistakable bang of Mammy Dinner offa them. This then recalled the time Aphrodite slagged our other sister about her gruaig smelling of gruel, and said sibling went ba-naaaaaaaaaa-nas: "How DARE YOU!! OHMYGOD It does NOT!" were the screams of high-octane outrage, before a monster sulk ensued.

Oh yes, it is indeed a Vile Thing to be Accused of.

Is this just a me thing though? I'm willing to admit to my own peculiar, ahem, 'idiosyncrasies'. Or do you too curl your lip, come over all faint like a well-corseted Victorian lay-dee and have to scuttle away at the merest whiff of food from a follicle?

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