It was his own fault really.
With his sister (my sister-in-law) holding a garage sale, Grumpy Pants went on one of his random clearing out of what he refers to as “crap”, yet more often than not is “stuff” that is loved, wanted, and used by others in the house. He doesn’t like it/use it/want it, thus it is deemed “crap” and is hoisted into the trailer and carted off to be sold.
This included the lovely, comfy, second (possibly third) hand outdoor chairs, one of which I had envisaged sitting in with my coffee yesterday morning. Alas, in my decaffeinated stated, I knew there was a void on the balcony, I just couldn’t determine what it was. T’was only when I went to sit I realised what the void was made up of – or, technically, what was so obviously and disconcertingly missing – that I was forced to have a tantrum.
As with a vast majority of tantrums, this did not elicit the return of the items removed (which, I might add, did not include the 30 year old bedroom suite that no one else in the house wants, the very expensive, very good television we bought before digital was a thing, nor the massively huge speakers, also some 30 years old, with ruptured rubber, and innards which can only be obtained from some obscure vintage and antique audio equipment spare parts shop in the States, which he has yet to actually purchase replacement parts for, and have no hope in hell of fitting it the house anyway … I digress).
Thus, we find ourselves out of comfy chairs in which to enjoy a quiet coffee, or moment of peace on the balcony.
The result of this was the decision to partake in a spot of Ikea-ing. In a slightly unsettling, opposite day, parallel universe type scenario, it was actually Grumpy that made this suggestion. I found myself in one of those bizarre situations; where I was unsure as to whether it would be best to embrace the suggestion and run with it, be very, very scared, all call in the Men In Black (MIB) … so we went to Ikea.
We obtained some replacement chairs, along with a bunch of other stuff that has become evident we also need. My kitchen is now slightly more organised, and slightly less cluttered.
Taking advantage of the moment, I suggested we also pop into Spotlight to peruse their wares, and possibly also obtain a new doona cover. Something with a little colour, as the ones we have are rather boringly neutral; as are the walls and rest of the bedroom furniture.
“What are you looking for?” asks Grumpy.
“A doona cover,” I say. “Teal or something like that.”
“Isn’t that a duck?” comes the response.
“What? Teal? Teal isn’t a duck. It’s a colour.”
“I’m sure it’s a duck. What colour is it?”
I look around me, surrounded by a rainbow of colours, and spot some shades of teal across the other side of the store. I carefully considered the best approach for this explanation I was about to embark upon. I was scared.
“Okay,” I say. “See those cushions over there?”
I choose my next words with considerably care.
“The … blue ones. Can you see the blue cushions?”
“Yes,” says Grumpy.
“Okay. Good. So, see the ones just to the right. Under the big blue sign that says ‘cushions’?”
“Yes,” says Grumpy. “The mauve ones.”
I bang my head on the nearest display which, thankfully, was a display bed, adorned with a puce and sunflower bedspread.
“How the … how did you get ‘mauve’ out of that? No … no, not mauve. The one on the top shelf, second from the right, that is teal. It is not a duck. It’s … ” is all I get out before I give up.
“Are you sure it’s not a duck?” he asks, as a store assistant approaches us and asks if we need assistance.
“Yes,” says Grumpy. “What’s teal?”
I attempt to implore her, using eyes and wiggling of eyebrows, which I am terribly bad at, not to venture into the discussion.
We agree that it is nothing like mauve. And that it is kind of blue-green, but deeper and darker than aqua (no, that towel is blue, it is not aqua at all) and not as bright as turquoise.
“It’s a bit darker than jade,” we decide.
“What’s jade?” asks Grumpy.
“It’s not a duck, and it’s not mauve. In fact, it is in a completed different colour range of the rainbow to mauve,” I say.
“Is there anything else I can help you with,” asks the lovely girl whom, I’m sure, we have gone a good way to confuse.
“Clearly, there is a lot you can help us with,” I say.
At the same time, Grumpy stated “I think we’re beyond help.”
Finally! Something we agree upon.
It is at this point we feel it best we leave the store, and go home.
So we do.
Stopping quickly to enter a fancy, shmancy furniture store, so we can mock their couches.
And to answer what, I’m sure, is a deep and burning question you now have, there is such thing as the ‘blue-winged teal‘, which is indeed a duck. As is the ‘Eurasian teal‘ and a couple of others … the common theme amongst them is the teal colour somewhere on their plumage …
Disclaimer: this post was NOT brought to you by Ikea, Spotlight, or the colour teal.