… here are some of the rules I would impose:
1. On-the-spot fines for public spitting.
It’s gross and I don’t like it. If you have to expectorate, do it in a tissue or into a toilet, but not on the street where my children and I have to (a) listen to your revolting noises and (b) step in your revolting fluids.
2. Doubled salaries of teachers and carers.
Having just spent two days in hospital with a child, can I just say that nurses are wonderful? Teachers are wonderful too. They should be well-paid so that they are happy and continue being so wonderful.
3. Compulsory charitable donations of 15% of yearly income for anyone who earns over €2 million per annum.
It’s ridiculous! Who needs so much money all to themselves?
4. Immediate cessation of movie-dubbing.
The Scandinavians speak perfect English because they watch English movies in English, but the Germans dub every film into German. Leave the movies in English, which will allow children to learn English easily and quickly and allow me to enjoy films once again. All out-of-work voice-over artistes can be compensated out of the Spittoon Fund. Or they can become teachers.
5. Mandatory provision in all supermarkets of the following products:
Marmite, self-raising flour, Golden Syrup, baking powder in sensibly large containers not those ridiculous little packets, Maldon salt, silver balls for cake decoration, coriander, lime leaves, ginger biscuits, biltong and Nik-Naks.
6. Immediate cultural acceptance for people who want to pack their groceries into their own bags (brought from home) While Still At The Till.
I’m all done with packing my bags at the car in driving rain or icy snow. I want to do it inside. That’s not so strange is it?
7. Immediate cultural approbation for shops that consider having one till open to be acceptable business practice.
Open more tills! Let the people shop! And while you’re at it, let them pack their bloody bags before they pay.
8. Have my state inventors concoct a Pause Button for the Elderly.
I have developed a reputation in my street as a gimlet-eyed, clenched-jawed fury because just as I emerge from my home en route to getting someone somewhere on time, having wrestled a just-awakened toddler into a snowsuit, dragged two other people away from their homework or very important craft project, we get accosted by an old person who wants to air their opinion on Lily’s new haircut. If I could only pause them, and return later when things are calmer to enjoy the conversation and all its nuances, I would be so much happier and the Elderly would be so much more fulfilled.
This post is written in honour of Angela Merkel, who is my new hero for publicly taking Robert Mugabe to task for human rights abuse at the Lisbon Summit. Go Ange! You tread where no African leader has yet dared to tread.
It is also written with thanks to Chantelle of the Quiet Room who had the idea first.