“Oh, awww, John! hee hee. Yeah, he did seem like a bitofa cock, he he!”
It was the unmistakeable high-pitched squeal of the postboy, and if I wasn't mistaken he was talking about me. I stood for a second just listening and peeping out at the two of them – John in his chair and the postboy leaning over the gate with the bulge of his sex pushing in between the wrought iron bars. Then I saw John put his finger to his lips and nudge his head backwards. The postboy peered over John's shoulder and into the hallway. Trying to think he looked even more stupid than usual. I leant back and out of sight. In the quiet I heard the whooosh as the toilet cistern refilled and decided to use that as my cue.
“So who's been using the toilet? It couldn't have been you John, unless Brian there carried you out the chair and planted you on the throne. Oh, hiya Brian!” I smiled. He gave a limp wave back.
“Er, no, yea... it was Brian,” John stammered “he needed the loo.” I looked at the postboy who looked all flustered and caught off guard. “Aww yeah, was Me. Guilty as charged, yer 'onor. Badly needed a piddle, hee,” he said giving his crotch a gentle squeeze like little boys do. John sunk forward in his chair and adjusted his glasses. “Hmm, OK!” I nodded “Oh, and John... well done for making it out of bed all by yourself. From tomorrow you've regained that little bit of independence!” With that I turned on my heel and headed for the kitchen thinking of blueberry marmelade on brown toast, two things I knew we didn't have.
* * * *
Poor Tristram.. seems like that Johns has you all paranoid now, and is being a right twat :0 xx
ReplyDeleteWhat one has to put up for love!
ReplyDeleteYour uncles are not cool...at all.
Hang on in there?
dB
@ Wildernesschic: Yeah he has, but that's my problem not his. As for being twat, you said it! X
ReplyDelete@ Dogboy: It's a hard game and never rewarding. My uncles, no, not cool at all. Thick moustaches and tight white t-shirts are so out! When will they learn??? X