Potential friendship

Bloggy Friends, you disappoint me. Not one of you has come up with Victoria Beckham’s phone number for me. I watched a tv show last night about her move to LA, and I really think she could do with hearing from me. She might even describe it as “may-ja”, which seems to be her word of the moment (as my bloggy friend in Florida Annie has already remarked).

The programme showed her house-hunting. I’ve done quite a bit of that. We could have a nice bonding chat. I would say “Vicks, I just don’t understand. You threw your hands up in horror (as any sensible mum would) at one house which had a patio with a sheer drop at the end of it, and no railings. You said you had to have a child-friendly house. Then you ended up with a house with a series of ornamental pools in the garden (they call it the back yard here, don’t forget). What were you thinking? Don’t you find you have to watch the little one all the time? Or have you got David to fit some good child locks around the place? Is he as handy with his hands as he is with his feet?” I would be tactful, and not mention how much more she could have got for her money in the Midwest. I would ask her what she uses on that hardwood flooring. I’ve got hardwood floors, and frankly, they’re a bit of a mixed blessing. They look nice, but they show every speck of dust. She probably finds the same. She seemed rather impressed when the realtor told her that Lionel Ritchie, a previous inhabitant of the house, had had the hardwood floors put down. I was a bit worried for her. Just because he’s a famous singer, I wanted to warn her, doesn’t mean he’s got a good eye for quality flooring. You’ll want to have a good look at it, make sure it’s wearing well. I hope she’s not regretting it.

Victoria is anxious to get to know people with kids, so that her own will have friends. You see, that’s another thing I understand. I think "predatory" is how I would describe my search for friends for my children. She’s had to learn what to do if an earthquake strikes; I’ve had to learn about tornadoes. Those of you who have read earlier posts on my blog will know that I have a pair of rather odd sunglasses. Victoria has several pairs herself. We really do have a lot in common.

Present buying - that’s another. It’s Husband’s birthday this week, so I’ve had to be sneaking off in the evenings, on secret shopping trips. She has the same problem. She had to go to a sex shop to buy a blow-up doll, which she then made to look like her (with help from her hairdresser and entourage), put in the back of a car, and used as a decoy for the paparazzi, while she went off to buy David a welcome-to-America watch. (I don’t understand how she got to the sex shop – with accompanying film crew - without the paparazzi noticing, and if she managed to do that, why she couldn’t get to the watch shop using the same trick. I must be missing something obvious.) But actually, you know, the easiest thing is to allow the man to buy his own present on Ebay or Amazon, because then not only does he get exactly what he wants, but it’s delivered to your door so you don’t have all those shopping trip hassles. I could slip that into our conversation. Save her a lot of trouble next time round. I think she likes shopping though. We saw quite a lot of that in the programme.

I enjoyed watching Victoria being taught how to pitch a baseball (is that the right term?) by a bunch of kids. I did feel a tiny bit smug though. One of the kids commented on her accent, and she told them she spoke differently because she was from England. The last time a bunch of kids wanted to know about my accent, I passed myself off as a celebrity. Maybe I could teach her a thing or two. She’s still very new here after all.

Husband, bless him, pointed out another advantage I have. Victoria is always wearing high heels. Even when she was pitching the baseball, she had 4” wedge trainers. Husband reckons she must be very petite, and rather insecure about her height. Let’s face it, that is one aspect of your body that surgery can’t help you with. Not even in LA. I have to say, when it comes to height, at my natural 5’9”, you might call me ma-jah.

I know we’re not exactly next door, but you have to think bigger in America when it comes to travel. We’d be happy to pop over for a week-end. 10-yo is soccer-mad, and would happily kick a ball around with the Beckham boys (I assume there’s a nice big lawn as well as those ornamental pools). 6-yo would be thrilled to visit, once I’d told him the Beckhams live on the same street as Spiderman and Superman. (Victoria seemed pretty impressed by that too.) She could take 3-yo and me shopping for clothes. I’m not very good at shopping for clothes, and 3-yo loves it, so that would be fun for her, and I’m sure Victoria would enjoy taking her along, what with not having a daughter herself to buy pink things for.

So you see, dear Bloggy Friends, I really do need that phone number. Victoria would thank you too.