[Good grief! I, like, totally forgot to blog yesterday. Where's good old anonymous when you need himher?]
d. was coming over yesterday evening to collect some boxes that he & k. had been storing at my place. When he arrived he was all a-dither, and a bit breathless. Long-time readers know that I occasionally use this blog as a cruel device for recording d.'s verbal blunders. Last night he was excited because k. had made a rare slip of her own.
t. knows his father as 'a fixer'. Whatever might be broken, t. is confident that his daddy can fix it. d. was telling his offspring that he's long had a reputation as a go-to man and that when he was a young lad his prodigious talents at locating lost items had his own mother label him as 'a finder'.
"Which is why," k. informed her offspring, "Daddy and I get long so well together. Because Mummy's a loser!"