Let the Christmas games begin.
'What are you going to do about our mother?'
'Do? What do you mean?'
'Well, what are you going to do about her?'
'I'm gong to do exactly what do the rest of the year, I'm going to pretend I was found under a cabbage patch by a kind but penniless local woman who deposited me into the loving arms of my father not realising he had been tricked into marrying the purpliest piranha to ever walk upright.'
'It's Christmas.'
'Piranhas don't celebrate Christmas.'
'She says she's coming to our house this year.'
'Well then.'
'She says she's not coming if you're going to be there. She says she'll have a bite to eat in a local hotel.'
'Hahah, aw, the stench of burning martyr. Did she use my actual name or call me 'that one'?'
My sister sighs.
'Tell her not to worry her enormous hole about it. I'm going to the Paramour's Pappy's house, at least he makes Yorkshire Puds.'
'I told you they're not traditional.'
'Traditional? Come off it, anyway you could always start a new tradition, it's not like we even go to mass.'
'Are you going to talk to her at all?'
'No.'
'I see. Well I think you're both being very stupid.'
'Quite.'
'What?'
'Oh sorry I thought I was typing.'
'You know someday she'll be gone.'
'Every body keeps saying that and yet I have seen no evidence to back up that assertion.'
'There really is a pair of you in it.'
'You know darling, you're quite right. I'm wrong, she's wrong and two wrongs don't make comfortable silence.'
'Have you heard what that Kevin bought Etheline?'
'No. What?'
'A day in a spa.'
'Hawhawhawwwwhaw.'
'Seriously. Can you imagine Etheline in a spa?'
'I can imagine Etheline being a spa.'
'Hhahahaha.'
And so we got off the thorny subject of the Lilac Couch and landed arse first in the pyracantha bush that is Etheline with the greatest of slithery ease.
I will be at Pappy's this year, there will be Yorkshire Puddings. He doesn't normally make them either, but he's not bound by faux traditions and willful women.
I dedicate today's eighties video to all that is good about pudding and sticky and gooey about families.
'Do? What do you mean?'
'Well, what are you going to do about her?'
'I'm gong to do exactly what do the rest of the year, I'm going to pretend I was found under a cabbage patch by a kind but penniless local woman who deposited me into the loving arms of my father not realising he had been tricked into marrying the purpliest piranha to ever walk upright.'
'It's Christmas.'
'Piranhas don't celebrate Christmas.'
'She says she's coming to our house this year.'
'Well then.'
'She says she's not coming if you're going to be there. She says she'll have a bite to eat in a local hotel.'
'Hahah, aw, the stench of burning martyr. Did she use my actual name or call me 'that one'?'
My sister sighs.
'Tell her not to worry her enormous hole about it. I'm going to the Paramour's Pappy's house, at least he makes Yorkshire Puds.'
'I told you they're not traditional.'
'Traditional? Come off it, anyway you could always start a new tradition, it's not like we even go to mass.'
'Are you going to talk to her at all?'
'No.'
'I see. Well I think you're both being very stupid.'
'Quite.'
'What?'
'Oh sorry I thought I was typing.'
'You know someday she'll be gone.'
'Every body keeps saying that and yet I have seen no evidence to back up that assertion.'
'There really is a pair of you in it.'
'You know darling, you're quite right. I'm wrong, she's wrong and two wrongs don't make comfortable silence.'
'Have you heard what that Kevin bought Etheline?'
'No. What?'
'A day in a spa.'
'Hawhawhawwwwhaw.'
'Seriously. Can you imagine Etheline in a spa?'
'I can imagine Etheline being a spa.'
'Hhahahaha.'
And so we got off the thorny subject of the Lilac Couch and landed arse first in the pyracantha bush that is Etheline with the greatest of slithery ease.
I will be at Pappy's this year, there will be Yorkshire Puddings. He doesn't normally make them either, but he's not bound by faux traditions and willful women.
I dedicate today's eighties video to all that is good about pudding and sticky and gooey about families.
Labels: Lilac Couches are toxic
posted by fatmammycat at 9:25 am
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