Reality Bites...

Reality: Hey! You! Lady!

Me: Who? Me?

Reality: Yeah you, whodayyathinkamtalkin'to?

(Reality talks with a bit of a cocky 'New Jersey' accent, I have no idea why)

Me: sorry, can I help you?

Reality: Yeah you can help me, it's me! Reality. You know why I'm here dontcha?

Me: sorry, no I'm just sitting here supping my wine without a care in the world.

Reality: You knew (pronounced 'noo') this day was comin'. It's about that boy of yours.

Me: oh yes, Arlo.

Reality: that meeting that you went to today?

Me: the one at the school? What of it?

Reality: the one about you're boy starting school in 9 weeks time.

Me: oh that was nice. I got a cup of coffee and met some nice people who gave me forms to fill out.

Reality: you know what this means, right?

Me: oh yes, but I'm just not comfortable thinking about it.

Reality: tough, little lady. The day is comin'. You better prepare yourself. All the meetings and school dinner forms - they don't mean nothin' (pronounced 'nuttin') till you accept that you're boy is going to school right after the summer holidays.

Me: no thank you. Not listening, you can't make me. La-la-la-la. etc.

Reality: you're hysterical. (Shakes me by the shoulders) and don't forget this is a perfect opportunity to buy (lowers voice to a seductive whisper)....stationery. Spider-Man stationery, but still...think of the stationery shops you can visit

Me: that's a point. Perhaps it's not all bad.

Reality: Good girl. Arlo goes to school
In 9 weeks. DO NOT MAKE ME COME BACK HERE.

God. Reality is a bit of a bastard, isn't he?