Yesterday I went to the coffee shop even though I don't drink coffee. I asked for tea. It's the sort of life that people can only dream of. Sometimes I even go to the butchers and try and buy veg. I get funny looks but what do they know? They should branch out a bit.
I drank my tea and pretended to eat my cheese and ham toastie whilst surreptitiously watching and listening to a woman who was with her son. The son can't have been more than about two years old. Unless he was in his twenties and extremely short and bandy legged but for the sake of argument let's say he was two.
Luckily I was sat opposite them. I took the liberty of cutting secret eye holes into a newspaper so I could pretend to read and yet cunningly observe. At first I couldn't quite hear their conversation so I shouted at everyone else to shut up. The conversation went something like this:
Bertie (looking hopeful): "Me drink, me drink my drink now please."
Mother (in a loud and pronounced voice): "No Bertie, try using proper sentences. Use a proper sentence. We talked about this." (presumably whilst using proper sentences)
Bertie (looking blank): "Me drink, me drink my drink now please Mummy."
Mother: "Say it properly in a sentence 'may I have my drink please'. Now here is your sandwich. Ask for it nicely. Eat it nicely Bertie."
Bertie (looking simultaneously hungry and wary) "Mmm sandwich, Bertie eat it. Mmmm."
Mother "Eat it Bertie and less talking." (What? Less talking? A minute ago he had to give a speech with a PowerPoint presentation)
Bertie (about to say a full sentence) "This sandwich is poo. POO."
Mother: "Bertie! You should not say that. There is no poo in that sandwich. No poo Bertie. No poo. We don't discuss poo at lunch Bertie. No poo. There will be no poo talk. If you say the word poo again then we shall leave."
They still didn't leave. I expect he wasn't allowed to leave until he asked properly. I imagined that the minute before Bertie was born his Mother called out to him in her pompous voice asked him to close his eyes. "Close your eyes on the way out Bertie, I don't want you discussing my vagina as soon as you can talk and believe me Bertie I shall make you talk with sentences."
Have a picture of my socks.