Step Into the Light

I was on the phone to Ma and Pa Violet this evening.

"Dad, I have a date with a policeman on Sunday!"

"I hope there won't be handcuffs involved?"

" .... "

Ick.

And then...

"Mum, I have date with a policeman on Sunday!"

" .... "

"As in a romantic date."

"Thank goodness, I thought you were trying to tell me you're going to prison."  

I still wee myself every time. I'm only assuming it's not a medical problem.

While it's not particularly polite to steal someone else's literary confection, I'd still like to share an email I received from my fabulous Old Man... 

From: The old man
To: Violet
Date: Nov 26, 2007 6:46am
Subject: She's your Mum

Thought you should know the following...it might have inherited implications in your pursuit of the noble career of accountancy.

The following exchange occurred recently between Father and Mother of Violet.

F:  I just got an email from Curtises, they are visiting Saturday arriving midday, leaving at 5.

MOV: How many hours will they be staying?

F: (silent..adopts quizzical raised eyebrows)

MOV:  Four?

F: (silence...accentuates raised eyebrows)

MOV:  Three?

F: (slowly reclines, puts head under pillow)

MOV: WELL ITS NOT FIVE BECAUSE THEY PROBABLY WILL ARRIVE AFTER MIDDAY AND LEAVE BEFORE FIVE!!!!!

Gotta love her.

It's comforting to know that whatever's wrong with me is genetically traceable.