Francois Foster

A Little About My Family

G'day mate! My name is Francois Foster, ( pronounced Franswar) by the way I am a boy, and i have a sister called Francine. Yeah Yeah, I know what you must be thinking, that we are french, HA HA. Whatever gave you that impression.....DUH? We're the Foster Family, we live in OZ, You know, down under?

Mum's name is Sheila and my dad's is Bruce- he likes a tiny( can of beer) or two, three or four! I guess he must of had a few when they picked our names! We're twins you know, well I'm the eldest by five minutes and two seconds which gets on my sisters nerves as I'm always telling her to respect her elders, not that it makes much difference, she's still a pain in the bum. We have to share a room and when it comes to what we're gonna watch on telly, world war three breaks out. " MUUUUUUUUM......Francois won't let me watch Skippy!" Quite frankly that program's for sissies. As if a bloody kangagroo would go around saving people.

Anyway, back to our names, as you can guess, I get quite a lot of stick at school about it. I mean, be honest, have you ever heard Francois pronounced with an aussie accent; it's sacrilege, the french would've had it scapped out of the French name book. Francine's ok, you can't  do much  damage with that, can you? I figure by now you may have guessed that I have a complex, after all, Ive been saddled with this name since birth and I'm already ten years, five months, three days, six hours and thirtyfour seconds old as I'm telling you all this! I just know I'm going to change it by what you call deed poll when I'm older, but I haven't told Mum or Dad yet, they'd be devestated.

It's so embarressing though, imagine this, we're in the shopping mall, my sis and me, me trying to be the cool dude with a baseball cap, cool pair of Nikes, the whole entourage, when suddenly dad bellows, FRANCOIS! Can you pop down isle six and get us some vegemite? It's these moments when everything seems to leap into slow motion like in a Science fiction movie. Everyone stops what they're doing to turn and look at me. You can see it on their faces, "Poor kid" He does'nt even look like a Francois! Who would do that to a child, I mean C'mon, I'm no oil painting, bright red hair, freckles, spots and ears that sitck out, which is another thing I'm not happy about. I asked Mum if I could have one of them ops done- you know, the ones where they pin your ears to the side of your head! And you know what she said? She said, But Francois, I love you just the way you are! ( Who is she kidding?), sounds like the tittle of a bloody song( pardon the french).
Anyway that's another job I'm putting on my list of changes to be made when I'm of age (can't wait) Ive got one of those little black books that you always here people talking about, where they write their secret stuff in, well there's more stuff in there but I'll get to that later.

I figure out you're kinda wondering when it started to go weird. It didn't happen overnight mind you; it just slipped it's way in, little odd, out of place scenarios, you just can't quite put our fingure on it, but ya know that something really quite aint right. It was after Mum had spent the entire day at the librabry looking up her heritage, her roots. She'd found out that her great, great grandparents originated from French royalty, dont ask me the in's and out's, I'm not really big on Kings and Queens, all I know is that when she came in that night, she was not the Mum I knew.

Mum told us that she'd always felt that she had a french bloodline (hence our names, i guess) and from that moment on, in her mind, and ONLY in her mind, she was French. Oh boy! She was'nt kidding. She did it , big time,O.T.T ( over the top) and that's how it came to be some four years ago now; I still keep hoping it's all just some cruel nightmare, pinch myself to wake up and realise it really has al happened and still does!

We had to move to a creme de la creme upper class neigbourhood, new school, the works, there was no way we could explain Mum's metamorphosis to anyone we knew, ( they;d of had her sectioned)! On one particular evening ( well, at least it began that way) Mum called us to the dining table for what we call "Grubs up" ( dinner). We were sat there, Dad, Francine, myself, just joking around, Dad doing his " How far could he stick his finger up his nose impression, in hysterics we were. Mum placed the plates in front of us, right under our noses, there, just ten inches away stretched out on my plate, as large as life, totally intact, legs , arms, eyes, warts and all, was a FROG. I kid you not. I didn't know whether to laugh ,cry, puke, stab the bloody thing or what, but I tell you one thing though, I was'nt going to eat it, no way, not in this life time. It was one thing having to put up with her atrocious French accent, moving house, being the school  geek, but eat a FROG,, how inhumane! I've dedcided she's totally and truly lost the plot; off her trolley, cent short of a dollar,

Francine screamed and ran to her room; Dad mumbled something along the lines of, " not eatin that, Im off down the boozer". Mum cried floods of tears, she exclaimed, " But et eez mi french cuisisne and it eez de in ting toeet in france", Dare I say we've nevber had frog since that fatal day; it's one i wish to forget and hopefully it has'nt left me or my sister with any long lasting  repercussions!

The Boudoir

That was how it all started four years ago and a lot has happened since then.. " Streuth" that's nothing compared to what I'M about to tell you. Let me see, where shall I start " mmmmm, ah yes", My parents relationship started to suffer, mum confined dad to the sofa much to his dismay, nevertheless mum wore the trousers, she was " THE BOSS" and from then on what she said was gospel. Francine and I walked on eggshells. Mum spent a crap load of time in what she called her " Boudoir" ( otherwise know as her bedroom). She had some fix-it bloke come round to install one of those flashing light " thingymajigs" put on the outside of the Boudoir door. When it was red, it basically meant " no entry"! which was 99% of the time. Quite frankly neither Francine nor myself knew what she did in there all the time but we soon found out.

One morning whilst mum was at her weekly psychiatric session with " Dr Scroogleheim" a local shrink, for her deep seated issues and a tad O.C.D ( obsessive compulsive disorder), oh and in case you were wondering how she paid for it, she had found herself a little job as an Agony Aunt for the local rag helping others with their emotional problems and obsessions. Yeah Yeah, I know! I thought the same as you're thinking now... but lets not get into that..

We found the key to mum's  Boudoir and let ourselves in. We litterally did a double take; I could'nt believe that I was seeing the same matrimonial bedroom as she had once shared with dad. The walls were papered with gold " Fleur de lis" (french royalty design), red crushed velvet drapes, crystal chandeliers, a four poster bed all draped with red velvet and gold plush carpet, built in stereo sound surround system, 42 inch plasma LCD TV tastefully hidden in a Louis the fourteenth cabimet, in a corner stood a matching dresser with a state of the art laptop, no doubt for her agony aunt correspondence. I can see now there's loads I didn't know about mum! What a dark horse.

The shelves were full of "self help" books on " Reiki" whatever that is, " How to change your life in thirty days", " The Cosmic Ordering Service" ( something to do with putting in your and sending out to the universe) Yeah, as if, and the "Converstaions with God series. Bearing in mind we ain't religious, so where the heck that came from, God only knows; I guess that's between God and her.. She too had secrets.

Francine and I looked at eachother, stunned, and both had the same idea. We took a flying leap and landed on the bed. Oh, if mum only knew.We were so busy laughing and giigling we didnt hear mum's car pull into the drive " Leaping Lizzards, Francine!" I screamed, "Qick! Starighten the covers, and let's get outta here!" " Cor blimey Francine, that was real lucky, quick you keep mum busy while i put back the key". God I almost had a very embarressing accident then. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, mum also had several " Monet" art work peices hanging on her walls, imitations, but nevertheless creepy.

Mum started changing her appearance from frumpy mum to passion for fassion, She exchanged her joggers for designer outfits which consisted of mini skirts with matching jackets, low cut, backless and sleeveless dresses. All from designers such as Dior, Chanel, Yves saint laurent, Jean paul gautier and La croix. I thought to myself, this cosmic ordering lark must be the real dael. Mum even had her hair changed to plattinum blonde at Jean Pierre coiffures, I nearly died from shock when I saw her.

One saturday morning, she asked me to go with her to the shopping mall to look for some sheets. So here I am, unsuspecting of what was going to happen next, when she put on her worst French accent and asked the assisstant, " I vish tu luke at dat shit pleece"! Well if the ground could of opened up and devoured me, now was as good a  time as any. I didn't know where to put myself and for that matter neither did the assisstant. " I beg your pardon Madam? " the assisstant replied. This is where I jumped in before it got out of hand. " I think my mum wants to look at that sheet over there please," and pointed to the sheet in question. The assisstant; " Oh, I do appologise for my ignorance, certainly,you may look at it, anything else I can do for you?" Mum; " Oh yu ar such a swit ting". I could take no more, I had to get her outta there. I had to think fast. " Mum I'm desperate for the dunny(lou)". " Francois Ver ar yur mannuurs?" Ave yu no respect, cum now, we go". And that was that, we went.

The drive home was silent, mum was still in a state of disgrace with me, over the mall incicdent. Who cares anyway? Some poor bugger cut us off at the bypass, well that was it. My mum let rip in to a french frenzie. shaking her fists in the air and screaming, " av yu no sens? ar yu crazee, yu imbecile!" I honestly thought she was going to stop the car and chase the poor man and puch his lights out. Luck would have it, the man was faster. Thank God for small mercies. When we finally arrived home, Mum;s feathers were defo ruffled, she went straight to her boudoir, Silence was broken, as Debusseys "Claire de lunne" bellowed throughout the house, gone was the peace, gone was the sanity and gone was my street cred.

I peered out of my window and saw dad conspiculously walikng up the drive, tinny in one hand, ball of white fluff in the other. Curiosity got the better of me, well wouldnt it you? So I went to get a closer look. "What's that Dad, " I asked. "Oh Just something I brought home for your mum," I guess he wanted to make his way back into mum's Boudoir? Dad placed the ball of fluff in a tiny box outside of mum's Boudoir, knocked on the door and left. Mum entered the living room with an ear to ear grin holding this white ball fo fluff that appeared to have legs and eyes, it glared at me and growled, It was then that i realised what it was, a bloody french poodle. That was it, life as I knew it was over, that mutt didn't like me, and I didn't like it.

Pierre

Let me tell you about Pierre or as I refer to it, " THE THING". Pierre has what most people would refer to as A.S.B.D. ( anti social behaviour disorder). As I mentioned earlier, "Pierre" and I dont get along at all, no sir'ee  not one iota. Pierre's favourite pastime is to pee in my bedroom, no one else's, just mine"MUUUUUUUUM he's peed in my room again" does she get cross, does she get angry. No she does not, Instead she sides with Pierre which rattles my cage evenmore.

You're gonna like this,Mum said Pierre and I need to sort out our issues by spending more time together. Afterall, she is the expert and "THE BOSS". So now I have to take Pierre "WALKIES", and to make it even more humiliating she has bought him a diamonte studded beret with his name on it! "I AM NEVER GONNA LIVE THIS UP".
I knew what had to be done to avoid being spotted by anyone I knew; I would just have to set my clock for 05am in the hope that nobody would see me with this peculiar fashion statement. That's what he is, " A FASHION STATEMENT". "OK OK" I know he makes mum smile and Francines as happy as pig in uuuuh, dirt, but that's not the point is it. I am supposed to be having a normal childhood, am I not? Needless to say Dad has wormed his way back into mum's Boudoir. I turned in for the night and set my alarm and did what I never have done before. I prayed to God, the universe and any other saint that would help me stay  unoticed whilst taking " THE THING" out in the morning.

The alarm went off and I sprang out of my bed. I put on my cammoflage gear and painted my face with army green as to blend in with the scenery. I looked a total wally but I was [prepared to do anything to remain  incognito. I looked in the mirror at my reflection, all you could see was a mass of green and two eyes staring back at me. So far so good. Next I had to find that mutt. He was on the sofa, as per usual. I was not prepared for the suprise attack, as I bent down to put on his beret and leash(direct orders form the top) he hurled himself into the air in one of his uncontrollable yapping and biting fits, he looked like a mexican junping bean. It was such a funny sight, even I could'nt contain my laughter. for one tiny moment I even wondered wether someone had installed a hdden camera, to send a copy to "YOU'VE BEEN FRAMED"!

I was painfully jolted back to reality when he sunk his tiny razor like teeth into my butt. "OOOOUUUUCH" there I stood shaking my butt from side to side in order to release his fierce grip. Mum came flouncing out of her boudoir in her flowing silk negligee revealing far too much information for my young innocent mind, to see what all the commotion was about. "WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING TO PIERRE, PUT HIM DOWN AT ONCE" ( she doesnt speak with  a french accent in the house). It was as plain as the nose on her face that Pierre was latched onto me, yet I was the one who got the blame. Mum eventually unlatched Pierre from my " derierre" much to my relief.

According to her, I had traumatised Pierre with my apperance and now he would most likely need therapy, she would take him to see " Dr Scroogleheim" when she went for her 10am session in the morning. One good thing came out of it though,"YIPPE" no more walkies. What's that exspression again,no pain no gain. I won that round, one nil, this was war. I was in the dog house, so to speak, but I didn't care, I quite enjoyed the serenity of my bedroom. It was the only place left in the house that had any kind of normality. I know what you're thinking. "What a shame, poor little mite. I'm ok, really. I'm the normal one, remember.
Keep reading, keep reading, good things start to happen....eventually. You seem to have forgotten," I STILL HAVE ONE OF THOSE LITTLE BLACK BOOKS". It's my secret weapon you know and one day it may come in handy, so they better beware of Francois Foster. Watch this space. According to " Dr Scroogleheim" Pierre has suppressed deep rooted emotional problems which he needs to release. "Dr Scroogleheim" suggested meditation. Iv'e heard and seen a lot of strange things in my life but this takes the biscuit. He then added that it would be a good idea to have a photo of me where Pierre could see it and also for me to have one in my room. So that is how it came about that I had a poster of Pierre in my room and learnt to play darts so well.

I came home after school on one particular day to find the house smelling of incense and candles everywhere. In the background was this strange "Hari Krishna" music playing, mum, Pierre and Francine were all sat in Lotus position in the midst of it all, ( you read right) even Pierre was in Lotus position. They all looked pretty spaced out doing their "OOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM" Breath "OOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM" Breath, now I'm convinced I've seen everything. How she goot that poodle in that position is beyond me, but I was'nt going to ask.

Things got weirder. Picture this, if you can, you're bursting for the dunny(lou), you close the door, sit down , casually glance up and there in bold black letters are the words " THE POWER IS WITHIN YOU", it put me right off what it put me right off on what I should of been doing and almost missed the pot. "OH NO!" not another one of her weird quirks. I asked mum where this was leading and this is what she replied, "My dear boy I am merely sub conciously programming your mind so that you believe that you can do, be or have anythiiing you want out of life". "OH greta" I said, "Can I look like Brad Pitt and will it get rid of my spots?" From then on these so called affirmations were everywhere; litterally. They were on the fridge, on doors, I even found one on the lid of my tucker box, much to the amusement of the class.

I shall explain! It was raining(which it rarely does in oz) so we had to eat in the classroom. I was really looking forward to my grub. I opened the lid and low and behold, in bg bold black letters(again), were the words, "YOU ARE A DEVINE MAGNIFICENT EXPRESSION OF LIFE!", crikey, "What's this woman trying to do to me? I thought. I quickly closed the lid and tried to conceal the evidence, but it wwas too late. "Digger" the school bull(which had to be in my class, of all classes) had witnessed the entire scene; much to my dismay and decided he'd have a dig at me( that was'nt meant as a joke by the way). "HEY EVERYONE, FRANCOIS IS A DEVINE EXPRESSION FO LIFE HA HA HA HA HA HA HA" he roared very loudly, There was no where I could hide( another one of those ground openeing moments i could of done with).

Alll I could do was turn from bright red to purple. I tried to explain that my mum was into to "Meta...Meta... Metaphysical." A(A branch of philosophy dealing with the nature of existence, truth and knowledge). I know, I know, I did'nt believe it either ntil I actually looked it up in the dictinary. By now the whole class were rolloing around on the desks in stitches. I sat there in total shock and silence feeling myself shrinking into a miserable degraded puny heap. I knew that before the day was over, the entire school would know about it., I was doomed. I must have looked pretty pathetic.

It was then at that moment , my moment of despair that Roberta Curler leapt to my rescue. I could'nt believe what I was seeing, Roberta Curler, the most popular girl in school, was defending me. " Leave the poor kid alone ya Drongo!" ( whaich is kinda like idiot, but worse) "You can see that he's got enough to put up with, living in that dysfunctional family, " she said. Who was she calling dysfunctional? I thought. I did'nt quite know if she was making the situation better or worse?

The laughter died down and it was if time stood still. Is that what they really thought of me? I made a decision then and there; I was not going to be anyone's joke anymore. No, notme!

When I got home I tried to tell mum what had happened that day, but she was too busy giving her meditation classes to women and dogs with deep seated emotional problems; Oh yes, her business was thriving, so much so that we even had an extension built on to the house, top and bottom. No longer did I have to share a room with Francine.
After documenting my daily account of misfortunes on my little black book(TOP SECRET), I went to the bathroom to check out my appearance. I can see where they're coming from, I thought to myself. Time for a transformation! I found some of mum's peroxide 18%(bleach), mixed up a batch and whacked it onto my hair. The thick gloopy emulsion wreaked something cronic but it did'nt deter me I had to perservere. I'll let you know how that turned out a tad later.

The Truth About Dad

Dad is no " Don Juan". Dad is just dad in his own unkempt uncouth kinda way. He burps and farts without any inhibitions abd when mum pulls him up for it, he claims " Its Gods' will and an act of nature". His mates are always saying when he farts in public " a bit more choke Bruce and ya would of started mate". That's typical aussie lingo and you'll hear it all the time coming out of dad's mouth.For those who ain't had the priviledge of his presence, they would need an " aussie slang interpretation book", but stick with me and i'll guide you through it, you'll soon get the hang of it.

Regardless of his de-meanor he's a dinky di and a great plumber and has built up a considerable clientele. Dad always looks as though he's just got out of bed, always. That's one of the reasons mum won't be seen with him in public, that and of the way he smells, particularly his feet. Dad has what mum calls "eau de smelly feet", "BY JINGOES" they really pong. You know when you'll be somewhere in a crowd and ya get a whiff of something that smells of decomposing rat, well that's dads feet to a "T". So you could say dad has his own uniquekly rugged exterior(not to be mistaken), with his beer gut hanging over his belt clip and when he bends over, you could use his butt as a bike stand.

Dad has a shed out in the back yard. It's his private domain; this si where dad can be dada. He spends an awful lot of time in there claiming he's doing the accounts for the tax man, (dad does'nt like the tax man). I know what he really gets up to in there; can you keep a secret, for mum must never find out.  Duane and Dundee(named after the great crocodile hunter) are the reason that mum must never find out. As she is also ( to add to her list and ARACHNAPHOBIC) fear of spiders. I know. I know, we've been down this road before but it had to be mentioned so that you can understand why dad's shed is strictly out of bounds to mum.

You're getting this are'nt you...? "Goooood"!, well done. Duane and Dundee are dad's prize Tarantulas, he won the pair down the "boozer" in a "Peeimg contest, it's a big thing in Oz. This is where the men get seperated from the boy's; so to speak. Anyway, back to Duane and Dundee, these amazing "BIG HAIRY CORKERS (astonishing) own half of dad's shed. Dad has been educating them with what you could call his " aussie culture". He is an avid " status quo" fan and whilst he's doing his air guitar bit and singing along full blast Duane and Dundee jump up and down in their burrows, "you have to see it, to believe it". These two receive only the finest quality insect and on special occassions such as birthdays and christmas they have a drop of "Amber Fluid(beer).

Dad has made them their own swimming pool complete with lilos, diving board and loungers; You think I'm having you on, don't ya? Well I'm not, it's fair dinkum, (genuine). Dad has installed a twenty one inch plasma LCD tv with combi Cd surround sound system. Duane and Dundee watch the footie together with dad, each sat on one of his shoulders.. Their beady little eyes are glued to the screen; you'd swear they knew which team to barrack for. The "bo's" as dad calls them, are very loving towards him, but watch out, if they dont know you, they are lethal weapons.

Dad's mate "Bluey" (nickname for redheads) had to have his earlobe gued together in hospital after the "boys had had a field day with it. He had come into the shed un announced and "whammo!" they pounced on him. You see, the shed is their home, they are'nt locked up, not the boys, no. If dad had to choose between mum and the boys, then the boys would win, flat out like a lizzard drinking (fast). Dad does love mum, in his own down to earth kinda way, even though he's always saying "she has a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock!" (A screw loose). I f you want my oppinion, it's a wonder I'm sane at all

Every morning dad hops in to his Ute (motor vehicle) with his tucker box, prepared for his hard yakka(work) for the day. One day dad called me. "Fancois! how's about helping your ole codger out today? "Waht do I have to do then dad" I replied. "Just give us a hand with the tools, pass your dad the odd tinny or two and basically have a good ole chinwag because it's a long drive, way in the outback", dad replied. Well of course I could'nt refuse and maybe I'd learn a thing or two, maybe not.

I got up at daybreak and put my old gear on as dad's ute isn't the cleanest of vehicles. There is just enough room for two people to sit in amongst the tinny's, fag ends and tools; I'm not even gonna mention the peculiar smell...no it's not dad's feet. it's more sisnister than that. Dad pulled out the choke and started to stroke "Marilyn" (the name for the vehicle) with a bang. "C'mon my little beauty," dad says whilst stroking the dash. "Marilyn" was a snoisy " as a dunny door in a storm" but dad finally got her going, our adventure was about to start.

The joob dad had to do was in a place called "Geraldton" just down the road. Now in oz if anyone tells you it's just down the road, be prepared because it basically means it' a bloddy long way. We got on the way with a sing-song, here goes then, by all means, jump in if you know the words, all togettehr now.
"Once  a jolly swagman'camped by a billabong
under the shade of a coolabah tree
and he sang as he watched and waited
till his billy boiled,
who'll come a waltzing Matida with me.
Chorus
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me
and he sang as he watched
and waited til his billy boiled
who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me"?
That was lovely, well done.

We were a few hours on the raod when dad roared " get a load of thenm beauties Francois" referring to the humungous ant- hills a long side the raod. " Yeah yeah, great Dad, but i'm really burstin for a peeeee, pleeeeease can we pull over and go for one, and I'm starvin! I replied" "Ok Ok son, will do, we'll just do a Uee( u turn) here and get off this road." We pulled into the dirt track up ahead, it was perfect with a group of gum trees that surrounded a clear water lake, complete with waterfall, nothing could go wrong, at least that's what I thought. As I mentioned earlier I desperately needed the dunny. Obviously there wasn't one in sight. Dad told me to make do behind a bush and nautre would do the rest. I took some dunny-roll with me and found a secluded area, I squatted and let nature take its course. I didn't notice the spinifex(prickly wild grass) as I bent down and let out as screech in pain "OOOOOUUUUUCCCCHHHHH". I rubbed my sore bum and tried again, this time more carefully! I was as relaxed as I could be given the circumstances when I smelt a really rancid smell. Thats definately not coming from me I thought. I slowly turned my head and just a few yards behind me; stood the most enormous emu I had seen in my entire life and we were both doing the business, only his heap was bigger.

I can tell you now I've never finished so rapidly before in my life. Dad was sitting under the gum tree shaded from the sun eating his grub. I sat and shared mine with the blowies(flies), yup. loads of em here in Oz. I can't count the amount I've swallowed in my short lifetime, dad always says there a good soursce of protein. Well he would know being the conservationist that he is. Anyway, I'm going off the subject here, so I'll get back on track, which is exactly what we did. We jumped back into Marilyn and got back onto the main road. The bloke whose plumbing dad was gonna fix was an old mate of his. He was a scottsman named "Montgomery Fitzpatrick" and his trade was iguanas, big ones. People from all over the world came to see his reptile sanctuary, he was renound. I was dead excited; I loved iguanas, gekos and snakes. Mum wouldn't let me have any. Un hygenc she called them. I could just imagine Pierre and a iguana together, that would solve the problem of Pierre and put a smile on my face.

We arrived at Montgomery's sanctuary at about two in the arvo(afternoon) it was burning ot and all I could think about was taking a dip. It was my lucky day, whilst dad was catching up on old times with Monty, I had a wander round. Just at the side of one of the iguana sheds was what I htought was a pool, it had water in iteven though I couldn't see the bottom quite clearly. I was too hot to be rational. I stripped down to my undies and dove in. Now this is when it started to get a bit eerie, it was as if I could hear the theme tune of "JAWS!", playing in my head. "Dah Dump. Dah Dump, Dah Dump, Dah Dump!" All of a sudden I sensed I was not alone. Something that vaguely resembled a reptile brushed passed me, now I really began to panic. I went in to a flippered frenzied splashathon,  "DAAAAAAAAAAD! HELP ME, GET ME OUT OF HERE! THERE'S A MONSTER IN THE POOL!"!!!! Both of them came running to see what the commotion was about. " What the blazin eck are ya doin in there mate?" Monty asked. "I htought it was a swimming pool"! I replied. "Well it is mate but it's also Archibald's home, " monty answered. "Don't worry, he's really quite tame, he just want's to play with you, that's all!" "Waht is Archibald then?" I asked. "Why, he's my pet croc, " Monty said casually. I carefully made my way to the edge, just as I was pulling myselfup out of the water, Archibald decided to grab hold of my undies, yanking them right down. There i stood in all my nakedness, my hands covering whta little dignity I had left. Needless to say, I won't be jumping in to any pool's where i can't see the bottom. Monty tried to convince me that Archibald was really quite harmless and I should get to know him," I ain't got no deathwish, maybe some other time" I said.

Dad got the job done which consisted of piping being laid to the iguana shed so that that had continuous flow of drinking water; and would save Monty doing it by hand. I was exhausted by the time dad was finished and slept al the way home; I was happy, really happy to see my bed.

The Transformation

I guess by now you're kinda wondering how I got on with that gloopy emulsion of peroxide 18% that I whacked on my hair? Do you really want me to go through more humiliation? Have I not had enough to cope with already? You are evil, every one of you! Especially those who want tokeep reading about other people's misfortunes. Why do you think I left it so late? Didn't it cross your mind that maybe, just maybe, I wanted to forget; maybe just maybe, I wanted you to forget ? But you couldn't leave it alone could you, you had to keep reading and reading to get to where you are now...;.satisfied? Okay, well you wanted it and now you're gonna sit here until you've read every last little detail. I hope you feel proud of yourselves.

Here goes then. About twenty minutes after whacking the gloop on, it started to feel a bit warm on my head, not too warm, just comforatbly warm. I went to the bathroom to take a peek and much to my astonishment it was all lightening up quite substantially. I was actually getting excited, maybe I'd get to look like "Brad Pitt" after all and enter in those look-a-like competitions. People do it all the time, make a living out of it and earn bloody fortunes(pardon the french). I could picture it now in the headlines, "Local Kid from Down Under" acts as Brad Pitt's double in his latest movie!" Fame, here I come!

The sensation on my scalp went from comfortably warm to excruciatingly hot. I started to panic as steam arose from my head. The thick gloopy emulsion had become even thicker. I resembled a gigantic cotton bud, without the steam,obviously. The only thing I could do at that moment was rinse it off and leave it in the hands of the Gods, the universe or whoever the heck deals with these sorts of crisis and hope for the best.

It wasn't looking good, no not good at all. As I was rinsing I felt this stuff brushing against my face. I had my eyes shut but I can tell you now, it wasn't the water. I grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around my very sore head. It felt as though my head had been though a cheese grater (YUK!) I turned to look in the mirror and gathered all my strength and courage that i could amount and kept hoping that it wouldn't be that bad. Seriously though, how bad coldit be?..."Streuth!" How delusional was I?

I unwound the towel; you know that stuff i was telling you about, that brushed alongside my face, " IT WAS MY HAIR"!!! It didn't even look like my hair anymore. It had the texture of a snotty brillo pad, you know, frizzy to touch, and the colour, well I ain't seen nothing like it, ever, not on any colour spectrum chart that I've ever seen at school.

I could attempt to describe it but it wouldn;t make a blind bit of difference. I was how we say in Oz, "Up S##t creek! (seriously in trouble)! Oh and pardon the french once again
"I BEG YOU...I EMPLORE YOU!" Do I really need to go on? Can't you just take my word for it, that it was a total disaster? You are all so very cruel.

Okay Okay, I looked like a freak, that's right a total freak. I no longer resembled a cotton bud, nope, I didn't even resemble myself. You could've hired me out as a prop for the decor of scary Movie! You wouldn't of known the difference. I WAS AS GOOD AS BALD!!!!!!! with a glow of yellowy, orangey, brownish, whitish tufts of brilo pad bits sticking out all over the place. Have you got the picture yet....?

Things didn't get any better either. Mum almost had heart failure from shock and fainted. Francine( despite her spiritual nature) cracked up in fits of laughter, and muttered something along the lines of, " bout time you give your hairdresser the axe, hahahahahaha, remind me not to use the same one hahahahahahaha"! Mum eventually regained conciousness, "Fancois, what on earth possessed you? What have you done"? she asked feebly in btween deep breaths into a brown paper bag( as she obvioulsy had been hyperventilating, hence the fainting). I thought to myself, strange question mum, it's pretty obvious what i had done, duh!, but I didn't dare be sarcastic, not now anyway. "Your hair, your beautiful hair has gone"! she now sobbed. Now she was stating the obvious, I knew it had gone, but she didn't need to rub it in, did she? "You are coming with me to the hairdressers in the morning, I will inform the school that you are suffering from mild shock." I don't know about the mild bit, but yeah, defo shock!

I went to my room and took out my anger and frustration on Pierre with my darts...on the poster, naturally. Then sobbed like i never had done before, with my prde and ego demolished, I must have fallen asleep; for I woke up on the rug in the middle of my room. For one split second all seemed normal, then I remebered why my head was still aching.

Mum rang the school the following morning, she was trying to explain in once again her worst french accent why I would be off school. Apparently, the man had no idea what she was on about as she kept having to repeat herself. I can only  imagine what what was going through his mind, (let's not). Luckily, it was Friday, that gave me a little extra time to adjust and contemplate what to do next (I would never live this up at school)! Mum rang her hairdresser Jean P ierre (who the thing is named after), and made an appointment for the arvo at 2pm. I was so nervous I practically lived on the dunny....Ya know that horrible sinking heavy feeling in the pit of your belly, and ya really neeeeeeeeed to go, it's as if ya got the trots.

At 2m we arrived for my appointment. Jean Pierre rushed over to mum and they kinda "air kissed" eachother, MMMMMWWWWAAA MMMMWWWWAAAAA! He then looked at me, took off my cap, shook his head and tutted in utter disgust. Jean Pierre is one of those guys that look neither masculine or feminine, and he lives with a man!!!! Definately a jolly gay person! He waddles with one hand on his hip and the other in the air clutching a pair of scissors, snip snapping away at nothing.

He sat me down in a dingy spare room at the back of the salon, after all, I wasn't exactly a waliking advertisement for him, was I? He probably thought that if his clientele saw me, they'd have thought he was responsible for the state I was in, now that would of been amusing. Nevertheless, Jean Pierre worked his magic and made me look half human again. More on that later!

Francine

Although Francine and I are both twins, we're not identical. You see we both had our own egg in Mum's tum. Francine got the good one containing the genes with the premium stuff such as pretty auburn hair,taller than myself, clear skin, freckle-less, sense of humour and an high IQ. Myself, Francois Foster, got the rotten one containing the the dregs, basically what was left, which wasn't much. Need I say more, I won't bore you with the way I look again? We've already been there and done that one, haven't we? I got the raw deal, pardun the pun!!!!!

Everyone is always suprised when we tell them we're twins. You'll see them look from Francine to me and from me to Francine. I'm always quick to jump in though to tell them about the seperate egg stuff, ya know, so they understand and dont make me feel even smaller that I already am. You'll always have some Drongo(idiot) who opens up their big trap, "It's what's on the inside that counts", whilst looking you straight in the face. I may as well have a special logo printed on y T shirt sayin, " Yeah, I know, .....It's what's on the inside that counts". Am I bothered? Nah, I forgive them their ignorance, I'm that sort of kid.

I'm the kinda kid you'd just wanna take home,like a stray mutt because you pitty it. You don't need to get the violins out, like I said, it really does'nt bother me anynore

As I was saying, Francine, the good egg, has a few weird quirks of her own. I really don't know if I should tell you or not. At one point I even considered the idea that she had been abducted by aleins and had been returned again. You hear about that kinda stuff all the time. Okay, I'll tell youuu,but it's gotta stay between you an me. She tals to flowers, plants, rocks, the sun, the moon, the stars; she even hugs trees, tell you about that in a mo. You won't believe what I'm gonna tell ya next, you ready? She isists that there are fairiese in our garden, yup, fairies. Those mythical beings with wings and things. She says that she has intersting intelllectual converstaions with them about the ozone layer and the state of our planet; too much industrial pollution, so they keep telling her, so she says.

Honestly, I seriously worry about that girl. You know, we'll be waliking to school together along this busy road and she'llbe picking up flowers left right and center, talking to them as if they were human. How weird is that? People drive by in their cars, wondering what the heck she's doing. One time she competely and utterly took me by suprise when she raced in to someones garden and hugged their tree, claiming she was absorbing its energy, another nugget of information she'd heard from her little winged friends. I'm careful now, I walk ten steps behind.

Even though Francine is " away with the fairies" (sorry just had to get that in) she has herds of mates, absolutely tons. She's never on her own at school, doesn't get bullied and kids come to her for advice, sort of like your every day kids guru. I really think she's gonna be one of those alternative therapy people, ya know the oneI;m on about, healing with their hands and that, hot stones, and crystals. Oh, and she's even witing a book on fairies and her conversations with them, but it;s stricty confidential, she wont let anyone read it yet!

Francine meditates on a daily basis with mum and Pierre. Pierre has mellowed since doing these daily sessions. He doesn;t growl at me anymore and has ceased peeing in my room, much to my delight; it definately smells alot better. Francine is always trying to get me to join in, saying "You'll feel better about yourself Francois", "When Kangaroos star flying," I reply. Even then she just smiles at me serenely and this is what she says "Francois I am a spiritual being having a human experience and one day you will understand why we are all here and discover your purpose". Talk about twilight zone. One has to be able to tune in to Francine, to be on the same wavelenght.

Francine omits a frequency of her own. It's real eerie, strange and a bit hard to explain, even comprehend, but when Francine is in your presence she radiates a calmness that gives you a really really spaced out sensation; no bull! I have asked her how she does that thing that she does and this is what she replied, "I am sending you some light to lighten up you aura as it contains many dark areas," "OH ....right," I say nodding in total aknowledgement as if I know exactly what she's talking about, (not).

She said she had read about it in one of those psycic magazines and started to practice. No doubt about it; it worked, she was good!

The Miracle

About a month after my peroxide incicdent I ended up in hospital. I know I didn't tell you before. I was just too embarressed to talk about it, but, I have to tell you because it's relevant to Francine.

One morning whilst trying to conceal my spots with mum's concealer make up stick, I realised it wasn't doing the trick. I opted for a different alternative. I looked in the bathroom cabinet and spotted dad's razor. Hmm...I could razor them off I thought, but that would be messy. Next I saw the dettol. I read the label, good for the treatment of cuts, grazes, minor abrasions, disinfectant, blah de blah de blah, you know, all the usual gibberish. I grabed a huge wad of cotton wool and applied the dettol, (UNDILUTTED). It stung a tad, but hey; anyhting that smelt this antiseptic had to be good....right?

I began to rub vigorously until my face went numb, burning red, blistered and then i must of blacked out. I awoke in the hospital burns unit with 2nd degree burns. "How are you feeling Francois?" Mum asked through her tears. All I could do was blink as I couldn't move my mouth. My skin felt as though it had shrunk. I raised my hand to my face, only to discover that it had been bandaged. Oh no, what have I done/ I thought. Now I've really gone and done it. The doctor took my parents aside and I heard him mumble skin damage and grafts most likely needed. Well at least my spots were gone, I htought. Dda took mum to the cafeteria to compose herself. Francine stayed with me, held my hand in hers, and as she did the pain seemed less, don't asl me how. She looked into my eyes and told me, "You'll be ok ,Francois, I promise".

That night in the side ward on my own, I awoke. Now, before I go any further I want you to promise to keep an open mind and not to mention this to anyone because what I'm aboout to tell you is pretty weird stuff and if you do tell anyone I will be forced to deny it and say you've gone completely and utterly insane and made it up, ok.

It was dark, really dar. You could hear a pin drop. I was staring in to the darkness when I noticed these tiny little lights bobbing up and down, swishing round and round. I blinked a few times(thought I was dreaming) to focus properly. The lights came closer to my bandaged face.I froze to the bed and closed my eyes. I must of held them closed for a whole ten minutes. When I opened them again, they had dissapeard. I convinced myself that it was all some kinda optical illusion and drifted off to sleep again.

Next morning, the nurse came in to change my bandages, as she unwound the layers her facial expression changed from serious to a look of total astonishmen. "Just going to get the doctor, he needs to see this" she said. What now? I thought. Surely she hadn't spotted something else;spotted, get it? sorry, this is no time for jokes. You wanna find out, don't you? Well the doctor came and did a double take. " I don't beleive it! This si a MIRACLE! How can this be/ he said, bewildered. I still didn't know what the big deal was. "What's wrong? I asked. "Your skin has totally healed son" he said and handed me the mirror. Cautiously, I lifted it to my face and gasped. "Huh? It had only been two days ago since  ithappened!

No one could find a medical explanation for it but I reckon it had somehting to do with those lights. What do yu reckon? I never mentioned to Francine what happened that night, but when she saw me, i knew that she knew, and she knew that I knew too!

The Mystery

I arrived home from the hospital to a crowd of people, mainly from the local rag who mum writes her daily colunm for and channel Seven television crew. News travels fast in our neck of the woods and they'd all heard about my miraculous recovery. I couldn't believe it, they were all here for me.

Dad managed to park Marilyn as near to the front door as the crowd would allow. Now all I had to do was to get out of  Marilyn and make it inside unscathed. "PHEW!" I made it. The reporters with their huge microphoines and telescopic lenses were all firing questions at once, "Francois, tell us what happened" one reporter yelled. "HOW can you be completely healed" in two days after sustaining second degree burns" another said. "We need to know and it's your duty to tell the people how it happened, what's your secret"? yet again another asked.

Dad and mum stepped in on my behalf, mum in her ten inch heels and designer ensemble, dad in his usual staright out of bed appearance. What a sight they must of looked, some things never change, (talk about chalk and cheese). Nevertheless they stood up to the crowd, united. dad did the taliking, (thank God). "Francois will be answering all your questions at a later date.Please leave your calling cards and we will get back to you as to when he feels fit to be interviewed. I got to say it, he handled the situation with style and class; despite having none of his own. Just goes to show ya eh, never judge a book by it's cover. A LOT OF YOU OUT THERE SHOULD TAKE NOTE!

I was still in the dark (so to speak) as to how it happened. There was no way I could explain without sounding like a total looney tune. I decided that I would have to speak to Francine as I was convnced that it all had to do with her and her so called "friends".

Francine was in her bedroom talikng to someone, or so I thought. When I opened the door, there was nobody in sight. "Whom were you just talking to?" I asked. She smiled and said "I was just chatting to one of my angels" OH NO, first it's fairies, now it's angels I thought. "Please tell me your'e having me on" I said "How do you think that you were healed so quickly Francois, and without any scaring?" she asked. "So you're telling me as God is my witness, mat he strike me down dead if you're lying, no bull, fair dinkum, that the angels are responsible for this?" I said. "Not just the angels Francois; the assissted and gave it their all". This was too much for me to take on baord in one session. Francine saw the look of confusion and disbelief on my face and told me to come back later on in the night when both our parents were inbed and alseep, so that she could prove it to me.

When I was absolutely certain the coast was clear, I crept along the hallway as not to make any sound, Although I was slightly wary and to be honest a tad skeptical, I just had to know. Angels, Fairies, I mean c'mon and if that were so; why hadn't they helped me before now, I thought. There had to be some other logical explanation, hadn't there?

It was pitch black barr a few candles in Francine's bedroom. It was a bit eerie and spooky but I wasn't scared; ....honestly! She was sat in the mifddle of the room on the floor in full lotus position with her forefinger and her thumb just slightly touching on both hands faced up lightly on her lap. She smiled when she noticed me and gestured for me to join her. " Hope you don't expect me to sit like that?" I said. "I want you to just sit comfortably beside me and become calm by breathingin and out slowly, BRRREEEAAATHE IN, through the nose, BRRREEEAAAATHE out through your mouth, BRRREEEAAAATHE IN through your nose, BRRREEEAAAATHE OUT through your mouth, she said in trance like state. After some time elapsed she told me to keep my eyes closed and my mind wide open, whatever that meant? She began to tell me about her special powers and her friendship with the fairies and angels, I was about to be told and witness.

Francine began to tell me her story of how it all began. One fine morning she was sat in her fairy patch at the bottom of our garden, you know, just chit chatting, away with the fairies, as one does, (forgive me if this is all sounding just a tad far fetched), but let me continue and you can draw your own conclusions. The fairies had told her that she had magical powers that she could use for the good of all living things. All she had to do was concentate and imagine what it was that she wanted to happen. She started practising on plants, insects, fish and anything else she came into contact with.

Francine noticed the look of scepticism on my face and told me to be silent and watch. She began to breathe in and out as before, only this time she started to glow and from above her head a bright white light flowed directly into the crown of her head. Her whole body appeared to be filled with this magnificent light, so much so that it began to radiate outwards and illuminate the entire room. That wasn't all. She actually began to levitate, (I swear to you on my life) that's what she was doing. She then pointed her hands towards me and rays of light beamed out of them and entwined my body, lifting me higher and higher until I could go no further. Never have I felt so full of energy and powerfull. I could of climbed Ayers Rock. Hell, I could of flown.

Francine smiled and embraced my delight, then she began to speak, "Angels and fairies of Love and Light, leave me now and go in to the night. Come again when once I call, to help and heal, for the good of all. Thank you thank you thank you"!

"WOW, Francine! That was awesome, that was even better than the "X-FILES!". (science fiction series, for those of you out there who aint seen it). " How long have you been able to do that?" I asked. "The faireis told me I could do anything I set my mind to and taught me how." She replied. "Francine we can't keep this to ourselves, we've got to tell the world" And so we did.

Telling the World

The day of the interview had arrived. Dda had arranged for it to be held at our house, obviously he wanted to get in on the act, you know; with his solar panels that he made from recycled tinny's. I already told you that he was a conservationist, didn't I? Mum had her business cards strewn all over the coffee table (promoting her mobile meditation classes for women and dogs with deep seated emotional problems), you couldn't help but notice them.

The reporters arrived on time. Mum greeted them in her Hari Krishna outfit, bright luminous orange and a bidi positioned in between her eyebrows(third eye chakra), the palms of her hands clenched in prayer position. Dad with the ususal tinny in hand and Francine also dressed for the occasion in a flowing white robe that looked like one of our bed sheets, wings attached an all. Me, well, I just looked cool, as my appearance had changed dramatically; I no longer looked like a total geek. My hair had grown back and Jean Pierre had worked his magic with the altest updated hairstyle, mum even allowed him to colour it for me( guess she figured it was safer that way) after what had happened last time.

Anyway this was our moment, I knew Francine had something up her sleeve(so to speak) and would give the reporters the story of a life time. There were two of them, smarmy pair of codgers who you could see by the expression on the faces, thought they were just gonna get our average run of the mill every day story, Boy, were they in for a surprise. Mum led them to the lounge room and sat them around the coffee table. I began to tell my story from start to finish right up to what had happened in Francines bedroom that night. You could tell that they weren't impressed at all and thought it was all some kind of hoax. I looked at Francine and gave her a nod.

Francine went into one of her trances. A beam of light came from above and transcended into the crown of her head as before (the mouths of the reporters dropped open). The reporter with the camera fumbled with the lens cap of the camera in order to capture the phenomenon and snapped away. There was so much light eminating from Francine that he didn't need to use a flash. Mum and Dad were equally surprised at their daughter's ability to shine(for want of a better word). Nevertheless they all stood there in total awe and amazement. Once again Francine did her levitation performance and lifted the reporter up to the ceiling. You could see the colour draining from his face. When the whole performance was finished they quickly packed up their things and left in a hurry. Life as we knew it would never be the same again.

We made the headlines, front page news. The telephone rang nonstop, people from the television wanted us to appear on their talk shows. Then there were those who wanted to know if Francine could heal their loved ones. Mum acted as personal secretary for us and arranged interviews for the talk shows, yeah the ones that paid the most; although mum's a spiritual person she's quite partial to the "green stuff". Who isn't? " Just securing your future," she would say.

Paul Hogan (the great croc hunter) wanted us as his special guests and he was offering big big $$$$$$$$$. somewhere in the region of six figures. We had become so popular with that newspaper article that anyone who was anyone wanted a piece of the action. To say we were in demand was an understatement! Anyhow to make a very long story short we did the show and it was a huge success. Some big shot editor from a publishing company convinced Francine to make her conversations with the fairies book available to the public; he gave her a year to do so. She didn't need much convincing though especially when he handed her a cheque for $50,000 dollars in advance on the royalties. ( watch this space). I never realised how mannnnnnny people were actually interested in fairies and angels. As you most probably have guessed by now;
WE'RE RICH, WE'RE RICH, YIPPEE, YAHOO, MONEY, MONEY MONEY. I know, I know, money isn't the be all and end all of everything but can you just let me enjoy the moment and wallow in my self importance, thank you, (Brad Pitt, eat your heart out).

Dad was approached by a company who were more interested in his somewhat unique solar paneling and landed himself a big contract. Mum's mobile meditation sessions for women and dogs with deep seated emotional issues became so renounced that she stopped doing it from home(hallelujah) and traveled all over the country, she also bought her own building, which is called Sheila's spiritual sanctuary and retreat, you'd be surprised who attend these sessions! Me, well I've become so famous and popular at school, that I have launched my own website to help and assist kids around the world to deal with thier insecurities and any other issues they wish to discuss, my speciality living in dysfunctional families (strictly confidential of course). My story doesn't end here my dear friends, but my little black book is full and I have other business to attend to, you know, with my website and all. This being popular lark is a busy job, kids need me. Anyway friends, for now I bid you all adieu as mum would say. Should you wish to find out more, well you'll just have to stay tuned and wait patiently till I finish my next little black book!
One most important note I wish to leave you all with, DO NOT ATTEMPT OR TRY ANY OF THE DISASTROUS EXPERIMENTS THAT I HAVE MENTIONED. Its really not worth the pain, humiliation and the hassle! Just know form me to you, the moral of this story is, that its what's on the inside that counts, it's not about what you look like, what possessions you have, how much wealth you have. Be the unique being that you are, always llok for the positive and remember there are always 2 choices, you can choose to think positive and change any situation or negative, which will you choose!

Just a last little note, This story is protected and does have a copyright, and also for those of you who have read the story previously on my website at the time, you may noticed that I have edited it here and there for your enjoyment.

I wish you all much Love and light in all that you do!
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