Birthday girl
We had a visitor yesterday [and last night].
Puppychild came to stay as she does occasionally.
The problem now is that Puppychild is no longer a child, nor does she hanker after being a puppy. Fo those who don't remember [or who have had the nerve never to have read the opening stanzas of my Magnum Opus], she is my granddaughter who used to crawl around the floor barking like a dog and generally being a pain in the arse. My problem now is what to call her.
She has grown into quite the young woman, and tomorrow is her twelfth birthday. She is quiet, fun, extremely polite and a pleasure to have around the place. The odd time she'll arrive at the door unannounced having made her own way here, with a beaming smile and a sweet "Howya Grandad and Granny".
She arrived yesterday and pottered around for a bit [she loves the peace and quiet of the place] and then settled into watching "Childhood's End". Now for those who haven't seen the latter, it consists of three parts, each one the length of a full feature film. She got somewhat engrossed in the story and we ended up watching the lot. I was knackered!
Then the child in her came to the forefront – she wondered if she could sleep with Granny? That was fine by me even if it meant my having to sleep in the garden shed with the dog. As a result, I didn't have quite the night I am used to, nor did the dog.
Eventually this morning, feeling somewhat ragged, I dragged myself into the back room to discover Puppychild happily watching horrible cartoons so I suggested a film. I just wasn't in the mood for screechy American accents shouting screechy American slang. Films are grand as I can pretend to watch while doing something else. However the one she wanted to see was in Spanish with subtitles – Pan's Labyrinth – which meant I had to give it undivided attention. As it turned out, it wasn't too bad a film especially as the subtitler hadn't bothered with asterisks in the jucier bits of language.
So that sort of explains why I am a little late coming to the Interwebs.
My problem now is that it really is time she had a new name. Puppychild doesn't suit a twelve year old. Maybe Colliegirl? That sort of fits.
Happy Birthday Colliegirl!
This business of time gets me confused. Collegegirl was a toddler when you started this blogging thing and you haven’t got any older.
There is a simple answer. I don't age. You should see the painting in the attic though…….
I realize I have made her even older in my comment, writing Collegegirl instead of Colliegirl! I fear by then that painting in the attic will have fallen apart
Actually [and hopefully] you have provided her name for post-teen years. If she ends up going to college, that is.
Dear Grandad
Miss Bitch, though technically accurate in a doggy sort of way, probably might be mis-interpreted.
Colliegirl could work, especially if she is black with white patches.
Hope this helps.
DP
Calling her Colliegirl is the highest accolade in the canine world [apart from maybe Lurchergirl, but that sounds a bit weird and might be misinterpreted]. Collies are gentle, intelligent, faithful creatures, though I grant I may have to rename her yet again when she reaches the Great Hormonal Teens……