My need for amusing facial hair has resurfaced so my sideburns are back. My brother-in-law thinks I look like cannibal butcher Hilary Briss from the League Of Gentlemen while the Boy is convinced I've gone all Victorian and am trying to emulate Sherlock Holmes.
Consequently any time I mention anything to the Boy it suddenly turns into a gag about something Victorian or detective-related. For example:
'What school did you go to?' asks the Boy?
'Goole Grammar School...'
'Are you sure you didn't go to an elementary, my dear Watson, an elementary...'
The odds on me paying for his very expensive 18th birthday present are getting longer by the day...
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