A friend was telling me about how she’d spent a “Girls Day Out” in town with her mum. It sounded great.
Yesterday my mum rang. “Want to come out with me this afternoon?,” she asked. “I’ve got a few things to do out the farm.”
My friend and her Mum treated themselves to a lovely expensive lunch.
(“I’ll pop past the roadhouse and grab something to eat,” said Mum. “Pie or pasty?”)
My friend and her Mum took a leisurely stroll around the shops, checking out and discussing the latest summer fashions.
(“Do you think that ewe has flies?,” asked Mum. “Do you reckon we could catch her?” “Shall we push those rams back into the home paddock- I’m not sure they’re drinking.” “Can you just get this gate… Get this gate… Get this gate…” “Here, you drive and I’ll try to prop that fence back up-looks like the roos have been jumping on it.”)
My friend and her Mum treated themselves to a manicure.
(“Pass me that dropper-this bloody trough bung plug is jammed-oh bugger, now I’ve broken my nail,” said Mum.” “You scrub this sheep trough and I’ll get the next one. Oh yeah, I forgot to bring the trough broom-just use your hands…”)
My friend and her Mum watched some entertaining street theatre.
(“Well I’m sorry but it did look funny!” Said Mum. “I thought you realised that snake was dead-you should have seen the look on your face. Who would have thought you could jump a barbed wire fence like that?! Hah ha ha.”)
My friend and her Mum bought some lovely new shoes.
(“Pooh what stinks? Take your boots off before you come inside,” said Mum.)
My friend and her mum returned home with lots of goodies.
(“Let’s grab some jars from the farmhouse and I’ll make you some of your favourite apricot jam,” said Mum.)
Awww, thanks mum. I’ll have a “Girls Day Out” with you any day! xx