A Conversation with Mum That’s a Trap For Young Players
I get this text from Mum:
Heading over to the Isle of Man and doing a 3 day course in London. Details later. Don’t call.
It’s hard to judge which the most extraordinary thing is. The Isle of Man—I’m not even sure where that is, a course in London, or the fact there are no phonetically spelled words in this text.
She calls that night.
Mum: Any news? How’s the cat?
Me: The cat is fine. If he’s still sick he doesn’t know it. What about your news?
Mum: No news.
Me: No news?
Mum: That’s what I just said.
Me: Isn’t this details later?
Mum: Details of what?
Me: I think about the lack of phonetic spelling but the truth is stranger than fiction. London
Mum: Oh yes, Maureen is going again.
Me: And you’re going with her?
Mum: I should.
Me: What about this course then?
Mum: What course?
Me: I smell a trap and I am the rat. The three day one.
Mum: Who do you think you’re talking to?
Me: My mother, who sent me at a text that said: Heading over to the Isle of Man and doing a 3 day course in London. Details later. Don’t call.
Mum: Oh you are silly. That’s your brother.
Me: You just forwarded his text to you to me didn’t you?
Mum: Nothing but laughter.