Our Angela was giving the kids their breakfast the other morning. It was the usual bedlam with the baby screaming blue murder, and the two-year-old firing spoonfuls of porridge around the room like a hammer-thrower in a blindfold.
"Wha' do youse want for yer breakfast?" Angela asked the older two lads. Chandler is five going on forty, and Christian is a year or so younger.
"Gimme a bleedin' boiled egg," Chandler said.
When Angela told me, I said that I couldn't imagine where he had learned such language.
"Could ya not?" she asked. I think she was alleging something.
Angela is like her mother. If she's not pleased with something, you'll soon know all about it. You'd never have a problem distinguishing between a delicate little snowdrop and a pissed-off Angela.
"Wha' did ya say?" she roared at Chandler.
If he had any brains he would have realised that something was up, and that he'd better watch his step. But he takes after his father, who is as bright as a 2 watt bulb, so he didn't do either of those things.
"I said I want a bleedin' egg."
I won't describe what happened next, in case someone calls in a social worker. I'll just say that it was a bit like that time when the lads jumped Julius Caesar. One minute he was grand, Jack-the-Lad, Emperor of Rome and not a bother on him. The next he's lying in a heap on the floor, wondering what the hell hit him, and what he had done to deserve it. So it was with Chandler.
When Angela had done her best to administer an elocution lesson, she turned her attention to little Christian who had been an observer of the scene.
"Now, wha' do YOU want for yer breakfast?" she asked.
"I don't know. Bu' I don't want a bleedin' boiled egg."
The hilarious new comedy novel 'It's a Desperate Life' is now available as a paperback or e-book from Amazon and all good booksellers, and through http://peterhammondauthor.com
No comments:
Post a Comment