We are all getting a little Aarghed
It’s a curious thing this age lark. I mean it’s always been a truism that wisdom comes with great age. Is that age or is it aargh? I mean we all sufferer from ‘Aargh’ at various points in our lives.
I suppose an early example of ‘Aargh’ occurred when, many years ago I succumbed to the bright idea, of breeding cats. OK not any old cats but Persians crossed with Siamese. It sounded such a good scheme at the time. My late wife had been looking through various magazines and saw some astonishing prices for pampered pussycats.
The reality was an overdose of ‘Aargh’! It began when Rudolph, a lovely and very expensive stud chocolate point Persian was found lying on his back with all four legs pointed stiffly at the ceiling the morning after his arrival. My daughter was heartbroken, my wife angrily accusing me of feeding him something that was poisoned in some way. The situation was getting out of hand when Rudolph yawned rolled over and got up to rub himself purring against my pyjama trouser leg.
That was the good news. He later produced a sloppy furball on the fine Persian killim in the drawing room. Well it was Persian and I suppose he felt an affinity for the origins of that particular carpet.
Another ‘Aargh’ occurred one miserable drizzling morning when, being the good husband, I got up to make breakfast in bed for my spouse only to find one slipper even colder and clammy with a particularly pungent aroma. Ah, (or is it another ‘Aargh’?) Of course stud cats need to mark their territory, but in my slippers?
That experience became enhanced by various queens bought to act as Rudolph’s consort thought that crapping in slippers was a suitable response to Rudolph’s aromatic overtures.
Then of course our next stud, Julian, an even tempered cream Persian, turned out to be allergic to his own fur, sneezing messily whenever he groomed himself. Then he took to napping in the tumble dryer, sneezing then thumping and yowling when the machine was turned on. We never worked out how he opened the door and no doubt one of the children would close the door when passing. It was so enriching removing snot and fur covered underwear to be washed again.
Fast forward by thirty years and spending a rare overnight stay chef my new mother in law, I bounded out of bed to make morning coffee for the family only to feel that familiar squidge in my slippers. Ah but this time it was a dog’s offering.
The background to this odour laden experience? Mother in law had six dogs, thinking she’d make a fortune breeding exotic poodles (with the accent on the poo!) to be sold at a suitably high price. Surely an idiot proof way of making money….
OK so I’m much older, far more experienced in age and ‘Aargh’ yet it still catches you out.
There are many more ‘Aarghs’ out there and they eclipse the age related mistakes. Over the next few posts I will give you all the benefit of age (Aargh) and how it applies to life and business. In the meantime consider this, would that excellent charity Age Concern be better rebranded as Aargh Concern or perhaps even better as ‘Help the Aarghed’?