My parents were busy people who wanted and needed their weekends to relax and recharge before the next week began.
So it befell to us kids to respect their wishes and basically keep out of their hair.
I was working on a homework assignment when I reached a point where I needed to ask for help. Mum was busy with her weekend occupation, doing her sewing, believe it or not, my mum was a great sewer and loved nothing more than embracing the thought of making herself, and sometimes us kids new clothes depending on whatever whim she was feeling. It was an activity she liked as it took her away from the humdrum of corporate law, as she put it.
Dad was in the garden where he could be found most weekends, weeding, propagating and sometimes harvesting the fruits of his labours.
I wandered into mum as she was over-locking the hem of a new skirt and asked her about the tribal habits of the Mongolian high country people. She looked at me with one of her withering looks suggesting I was on borrowed time for interrupting her.
She looked away and muttered, “Go ask someone else.”
So I went to dad who was on his knees in the garden planting a new crop of strawberries and said the same thing when asked.
There was no one else to ask after that, so I went inside and started the computer, asked Mr Google for help and got the answers I wanted. When asked later why I had been used the computer when I had been told not to during the day I replied that neither of them had offered me any help in telling me to ‘ask someone else’, so I asked Mr Google who thankfully obliged.