Things that go grump in the night
Bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz.
My mobile phone, which also doubles up as my alarm clock was buzzing at the side of my bed.
There were 2 problems with it buzzing, the first was that it was 1.30am and the alarm wasn't set to go off for another 5 hours, the second and far worse problem was that the display informed me that Watski Jnr was trying to make contact with me.
Watski Jnr ringing at 1.30am could only mean one of two things: 1 - he was drunk and was ringing to tell me how drunk he was, how drunk everyone he was out with was, how rubbish I was for not being drunk with him and how drunk he was again in case I didn't remember the first time he told me. I was actually hoping it was that option.
I was hoping it was that option because the 2nd reason could only be that he'd forgotten his key and that I'd locked him out. And I didn't want to get up from my nice, warm pit to let him in.
"Can you let me in?" asked the sheepish voice on the other end of the line.
My hope had been rejected by the big hope rejector in the sky - I'd obviously reached my hope limit and was therefore all hoped out. It sounds like a song Alison Moyet should have sung. I'd have bought it.
"Haven't you got your key?" I grumpily replied.
If I were him I would have been dying to say 'yes I have my key, that's why I've got you up at 1.30am to let me into the house'
All credit to him, he managed to resist the open goal.
It was a small sacrifice to make when faced with a night in the shed though.
I am destined to be woken up in the small hours by hungry mammals.
My mobile phone, which also doubles up as my alarm clock was buzzing at the side of my bed.
There were 2 problems with it buzzing, the first was that it was 1.30am and the alarm wasn't set to go off for another 5 hours, the second and far worse problem was that the display informed me that Watski Jnr was trying to make contact with me.
Watski Jnr ringing at 1.30am could only mean one of two things: 1 - he was drunk and was ringing to tell me how drunk he was, how drunk everyone he was out with was, how rubbish I was for not being drunk with him and how drunk he was again in case I didn't remember the first time he told me. I was actually hoping it was that option.
I was hoping it was that option because the 2nd reason could only be that he'd forgotten his key and that I'd locked him out. And I didn't want to get up from my nice, warm pit to let him in.
"Can you let me in?" asked the sheepish voice on the other end of the line.
My hope had been rejected by the big hope rejector in the sky - I'd obviously reached my hope limit and was therefore all hoped out. It sounds like a song Alison Moyet should have sung. I'd have bought it.
"Haven't you got your key?" I grumpily replied.
If I were him I would have been dying to say 'yes I have my key, that's why I've got you up at 1.30am to let me into the house'
All credit to him, he managed to resist the open goal.
It was a small sacrifice to make when faced with a night in the shed though.
I am destined to be woken up in the small hours by hungry mammals.
