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The question for this week is-

What is the stupidest thing you have ever done?

Anonymous commenters (I promise not to look up your IP or check you email addy) and embarrassing moments are not only welcomed but ENCOURAGED.

I’ve done a fair few stupid things in my time but here’s one that comes to mind:

When living in Adelaide, I decide 3 in the morning is a good time to do some general cleaning up around the house. Wait this isn’t the stupid part. So there I am with a huge garbage bag of stuff ready to take outside. I am in my pyjamas and walk out of the door to the bin outside. Wait this isn’t the stupid part. So I casually walk back to the house and realise that I’ve shut the door and it’s locked! Wait wait, this isn’t the stupid part. So here I am 3 in the morning living ALONE with no family in the city or anyone who has a spare key, IN MY PYJAMAS and nowhere to go. So I sit there. Wait, not the stupid part. I remember I may have left the bedroom window open so I walk to the back. YES! The window is open but there is a flyscreen there. I climb up the window sill, scratch the screen WITH MY BARE FINGERS and make a hole large enough for me to climb in. SUCCESS!

See the thing is, while sitting on the window sill scratching at the flyscreen I spied a key next to my foot. So I’m casually thinking to myself, “Oh it must be a spare key for the front door. The previous tenants must have done that (how scary is that now I think about it)” And instead of stopping there, grabbing the key and at least TRYING the front door, I just keep ripping up the flyscreen.

NOT THE STUPID PART.

The stupid part is I only realise my gross stupidity when relaying the story to husband TWO YEARS LATER. It finally dawns on me as I run to the windowsill outside, grab the key (which I am stupid enough to LEAVE there for TWO years) and fit it into the lock in the front door. Lo and behold. It fits.

Beat that, readers.

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I’ve never been much of name dropper and sadly it’s because I’ve never had any names to drop.

UNTIL NOW.

Guess who came to dinner? He has his own WIKI for goodness sake! It was a wonderful evening mashaAllah, he came bearing a stack of gifts from his beautiful wife, and the kids just adored him.

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BEFORE

Farhad: Do you think I can call him Wal or Wally?

Tasmiya: You are NOT calling him “Wal” or “Wally” or anything else. He’s WRITTEN A BOOK! People called “Wally” play rugby league (not union) and they DON’T WRITE BOOKS.

Farhad: What about QWALID like Talib KWELI? (obscene language warning)

Tasmiya: No!

Farhad: Awwww!

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Tasmiya: I dare you to stand near the arrival gate with a sign when you pick him up from the airport.

Farhad: You’re on.

The sign?:

“SUSAN’S HUSBAND”

Farhad actually did it, much to the amusement of Waleed and many other passengers disembarking.

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DURING

Tasmiya: Let Uncle Waleed show you what…is it ok if they call you “Uncle?”

Waleed: Sure, I don’t mind what they call me.

Tasmiya (thinking): Oh dear God, please don’t let Farhad call him “Wal.”

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AFTER

4 year old: Hey, remember when Uncle Woolley came and he drew the Batman sign?

Tasmiya: Yes, I do remember. It was really nice, wasn’t it? You know his name is Waleed.

4 year old: Uncle WILLY? His name is WILLY? HIS NAME IS WILLY??!!

Tasmiya: No, WaleeeeeD.

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You’re pretty alright, Susan’s Husband.

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