Things mothers don't need to know.

Last night, I was at my Mum's house, looking for a massive A-Z file that has everything important in it. Because although I'm a chaotic person, there's nothing I like more than having a place for everything.
 I love drawers.
 Really tiny drawers with labels on the outside so you know exactly what goes in it. I have a set of drawers at home that have labels such as 'fire making things', 'ribbons and lace', 'sharp pointy things', 'nice smelly burny things', and my favourite drawer, 'dead things and feathers'. Update: on reflection, 'the sharp pointy thing' drawer might just win...
 When I was at school, I didn't just have a folder for my notes and research, I had a folder that cross referenced to another folder and I had a seperate index book. Unfortunately, this meant I spent more time filing than I did studying, but damn my folder was neat.

Anyway. Scene one - Mum's house

"Mum, have you seen a massive folder about?"
"What folder? Folder? What folder?"
"A really big expanding file-y thing with, like, my LIFE in it. I can't find it at my house, thought I might have left it here."
"Months ago?"
"*sheepish* Yes... months ago... you seen it?"
" It was in the kitchen for months"
"Yes, I know, I'm sorry, I'll take it away now"
" Months and months "
"Yes."
"I didn't know what it was doing there"
"Yes. I understand that. Can I have it?"
"I put it somewhere."
"OK, where?" (seeing as Mum often puts spoons in the freezer, milk in the cupboard, and once rang her mobile to locate it only for the FRIDGE to ring, this is a complex question.)
"Somewhere"
"Well, yes, it's got to be somewhere, unless you're actually magic, or you burnt it.."
"* look of vague recollection goes across her face*
" ....you burnt it?"

We found it eventually, although it turns out what I was looking for wasn't in it.
Not until an hour later, my mum suddenly starts talking about the file again.

"When I picked it up to move it, it fell apart a bit and stuff fell out."
"Oh, shit, really? How much? *thinks of the hideousness of the papers being all out of order*
" Not much, but I saw a couple of things"
" Ooh.... really?" *shit shit shit shit shit shit shitshit shitshitshit - like what? naked pictures? old love letters? the list of all the men i've ever slept with?*
" Yes. One of them was a nipple piercing certificate thing."
" *SHIT* ....... oh.........really?"
"Which means you've had a nipple pierced?"

(Yes. Yes I have. And I've spent a long time hiding it from her. Including one afternoon when I was gardening for her, topless (i hate tan lines more than the devil himself. More than marmite, even.) and she came up to pass me a drink. And I spun round in a *shit must hide nipple* fashion. Phew! Dodged that one! And then... "whats that on your back?"

"*double shit. My tattoo. Also kept hidden.* er... henna?"

"So it's not permenant?"

"er... no?" She cottoned onto that one when my auntie dobbed me in.)

" Er... yes?..... but it was like... 3 years ago. And I lost it when I was in Morocco. So, I don't have that one."
" Thats just... I mean... why?  You're gross. It's actually disgusting. But you don't have it now?"
"Weeeelll, nooooo...."
"Good."
"........Not the left one. But I had the right one pierced recently. to.. even them up."
" So you have both?"
"No, one. I had to! The scar tissue made one nipple bigger than the other! I need symmetrical nipples!!"
" GOD I can't even THINK about it. How COULD you? You're so stupid? You're gross! GROSS!!!"
" I know *beautific smile*  It's so pretty! I love it!"
*mum walks out, possibly making sign of the cross* "you disgust me."
.................
"NIPPLES!!"

Sometimes I think my mother just doesn't understand me.