a life less apostrophised

Casually suggested to Gruff as we pulled out of Somerfield car park:

We could do with renting the robots of death.

Said to Zig just now, as he struggled to pull away from the Fairly OddParents:

Just concentrate and write the Rosetta Stone.


I reckon it’s useful to have a Bank Holiday to do list

Gruff went in and came out safely. Thanks to the drama of developing a dramatically dramatic allergy to any antibiotic beginning with Ciprox, he was in for nearly a week, has more than one reason to be a bit lighter, and has only just stopped walking a bit deliberately. But now he’s back and - well - Balanced, if you get my meaning, with a scar to make grown men faint and curious wives poke and prod. Just the one, though, eh.

Mind you, if any curious wife out there is that curious, make me an offer and perhaps you can come and poke and prod too. We need to build up a bigger pot for the big brave grown-up house move we’ve been intending for a few years now; this could be our answer. Telling you that he’s all scrabbly from dissolving stitches and hair re-growth just makes it better, oh yes.

baubles part der

I wonder if Gruff is the only person to have gone down* to surgery with ‘Xmas Trees’ written under allergies on his wristband**? Because you never know when your surgeon will be strung with tinsel and gripping his scalpel between Blue Spruce fingers.

Or - as Gruff added, to derail the twiggy hands idea, as he had Raggety nightmares as a child, and doesn’t really want to wonder about vengeful childhood horrors looming over that bit of him when he’s out for the count - if the anaesthetic will be pine fresh.

Still, he said, after all was done and altered but not Altered, the metal snap stickers along his torso made him Neo.

Or a babygrow, I didn’t add, because the poor chap had just had rather nasty surgery on his man bits, and if being Neo makes him feel better then good for him. And a few après surgery metal snap chest stickers are available on the National Health. Floor length leather coats are not.

It went well, but things were trickier than expected, so he will be in until at least Monday. He’ll be fine; he has Cartoon Network.


*I was about to write why ‘down’ when surgery wasn’t ‘down’ at all, but over, across a bit, a bit more, and along? Then I remembered that Gruff had been moved to the second floor and surgery was on the ground floor, therefore he did indeed go down to surgery. Smartarse or keen observationalist I’m not.

**The wristband they make you wear so you don’t get lost. Or someone doesn’t pick you up while you are dozing and take you home in mistake for their baby. Which, when you’re a bit plump, a bit bald with temporarily bald nads, could happen. Even if you’re so much 36 you're very nearly 37, and always very much 6’ 1 ½”.

ooch

Will somebody please tap me on the shoulder when it's International Think Before You Speak Day. I'll be just here, with this cushion over my head.