My youngest son does nothing around the house to help. Except exist. That seems to be his only contribution as the Daniels household bustles around him and he thinks it more than sufficient.
He’s not a bad lad, fortunately. Just a socially-aware 17 year-old, and when I say ’socially aware’ I mean he’s always on social media. Instagram seems to be his favourite among many. I do find that encouraging, as this particular ‘platform’ seems to serve the needs of local estate agents and the sellers of corporate jets as well as other teenagers.
I assume there are many wealthy youngsters in Monaco looking to upgrade to a pad in the Odious Tower, or from a Cessna to a Jetstream. So Instagram is the obvious place for these companies to promote their services.
I asked him the other day about Facebook. “Face what?” he shouted back.
On Thursday I asked him to go to Picard to stock up for the weekend. “Please buy five number 9 pizzas (he likes them a lot), cauliflower, two large bags of fish – the family economy bag – and look out for those lamb tartlets, and please get three of those barquettes, one potato and onion and two with the pasta. And get some ice cream if you fancy it.”
Then he took his earplugs out and said: “Did you say something?”
Whether this is a strategy to do even less than nothing or a genuine case of teenagerdom I have no idea. Anyway, it works, and I am the one to toddle off to Picard to get the food in.
To tell you the truth, I find Picard a bit challenging. Whereas at Carrefour and U everything is where it has always been, at Picard they have a habit of keeping customers on their toes by moving things about. Where last week there were bio veggies, this week there are ready-cooked snacks. Pizzas have moved one aisle entirely, and for no apparent reason.
The staff are very well-trained and always say Bonjour, Monsieur or Bonsoir, Madame. They always get this right and have no problem in correctly identifying the gender of the client. In Tesco, and even more so, Asda, this would be more of a challenge, and regrettably no-one says Bonjour in Waitrose anymore, although I always want to say something every time I go into a UK shop, but it would come out badly. “Why don’t you go on a diet?” is a bit risky even for an Old Age Pensioner.
I have a Picard loyalty card, but by the time I need to flash it my hands are too cold and it falls on the floor. A pity, as this week there is a five eurocents discount on doigts de poisson. Too late. By the time I’ve had a dizzy spell and fumbled around and the card is back in my grasp, the frozen goods are all packed up and ready to go.
Bonne soirée, Monsieur.
