AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGH

[Uncle Mort]

This is beginning to outdo the Book of Job. 

(and sorry but...  )

[Bar Wench]

Why does Mrs Nick constantly have to indulge in retail therapy? Is it something you've done? 

[Nick]

She is nuts.

[Bar Wench]

So what is happening with the other tables? And why does The Boy need two new beds?

[Nick]

Where to start!

He has 2 beds now. One for him and one for friendson sleepovers. Mrs N decided to get 2 new beds for him and move the existing beds to a house we own locally which we let to the vets.

However, after we bought the new beds we found that the new vets are bringing their own beds with them, so The Boy now has FOUR beds. And they didn't arrive yesterday as the delivery men came while I was taking him to school and left before I got back.

And no, I have no idea what we are going to do with the new beds. Leave them in their boxes or flog them on eBay perhaps.

[Misunderstood]

My replacement car arrived yesterday on the back of a truck. As he was putting my car onto the truck to take it to the garage he drove it into our neighbour's wall!

 


It just never ends does it?   What about desserts?

I recommend Nick to be adopted as a National Institution and inserted into a glass cabinet (with no buttons) and used to threaten small children that misbehave.

[Nick]

 

[Grumpmeister]

I recommend Nick to be adopted as a National Institution and inserted into a glass cabinet (with no buttons) and used to threaten small children that misbehave.

Are you saying that Nick should be institurionalised? 

[Nick]

I already am> I live here!