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Awkward turtle

Awkward turtle ... not know what I mean? Oooh, lucky you.

Picture this - hold your hands out in front of you, palms facing the floor; place one hand on top of the other and curl fingers over; thumbs should remain parallel to the floor and at 90 degrees to the hands; then start to roll thumbs in a forward-turning, circular, pedalling motion: this is the 'awkward turtle'. Ask any teenager and they will demonstrate an array of other awkward animals - from 'awkward giraffe' to 'awkward frog' - in fact, be prepared to face a menagerie of awkward beasts that will sneak rudely into conversations, or encroach on your peripheral vision when things get ... well? - just a bit uncomfortable in the social, conversational department.




Frequent awkward turtles include


  • chatting happily to a friend - one who you see on an almost daily basis outside school, who you have met for coffee, played tennis with, and (let's make this as bad as possible) have not only enjoyed dinners with, but have also shared the cost of a holiday cottage with. A new acquaintance approaches, the mum of the new girl in your daughter's class, and (if you know me, you've probably guessed already what happens next) introductions are required. Do you remember the name of the new girl's mum - miraculously, yes! - of your 'best' friend - of course not. Roll on the awkward turtle, generously proffered by child in corner. Your child. Whose name you sometimes remember.
  • children are the principle fans of this one - wind from above or below, that can't be blamed on the dog
  • that email that somehow says something entirely different from what you had intended - oops! picture awkward turtle inside head, or lurking somewhere above the head of the person you sent it to
  • anything misheard, mispronounced or generally misunderstood
  • and finally - for now anyway - the worst, most embarrassing, dig-me-a-hole-now-and-I'll-jump-into-it-sooner-than-immediately awkward turtle; the one where faced with a curmudgeonly relative who is bent on spoiling the party/dinner/picnic you decide that it's time to tell a joke. Bear in mind that you are not known for your joke-telling skills. Bear in mind too that said curmudgeonly relative has already spoilt the party/dinner/picnic and not even the best joke in the world is going to shift the heavy depression that has now descended on the party/dinner/picnic. And your joke is not the best joke in the world. You start telling it with confidence. And the room goes silent. Your confidence starts to wane. When curmudgeonly relative looks at you with get-on-with-it-then,-if-you-have-to eyes, it wanes further. Your voice starts to falter. You realise you had no idea your confidence could wane so low. You have two choices - stop now ... or soldier on. You soldier on. Curmudgeonly relative roars "Speak up!" Your hands are shaking. Beads of sweat prick your brow. What's the ending? What is it? Start to panic. Everyone's watching. You hiss out the punch-line ... There is no silence as complete as a silent room filled with silent people who silently go "Aaah - not very funny" inside their heads. You can almost hear the turtles furiously cycling your children's hands at the party/dinner/picnic.

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