It was comfort food for tea tonight with chicken, chips and beans. So I was quietly sat at the table arranging my chips into a dam-like construction on my plate to prevent the tomato sauce spilling out everywhere. The dam was a thing of beauty and it corralled the beans perfectly and, if the truth be told, I imagined myself attached to a mini-helicopter swooping down and taking in the view like it was some bizarre geological structure in miniature.
Then I noticed an unusual thing. The Missus and the Boy were silent so I looked up to find their two bemused faces faces looking down at me. Then the Boy adopted a caring tone of voice and asked the following question:
'I don't with to be rude...'
'Right...'
'...but do you think you could be autistic?'
The Missus bursts out laughing and I try to defend myself by explaining it's just good plate logistics but there is apparently no defence. I am now branded subnormal in my own home by my Boy for combining the twin assets of practicality and imagination.
Family life is over-rated in my opinion...
No comments:
Post a Comment