I can't wait till we go up North tomorrow. It will be so good.
The Good Lady clucked contentedly from her seat on the couch.
It will be bloody awesome, lady wife. I can't wait either.
I raised my glass and clinked it off hers as we toasted the idea of sticking one up The Man's shitpipe and doing what we damn well pleased for a couple of weeks. Which was mostly drinking on a beach in between looking after the children.
Oh you know what, let's check the weather. Hopefully, we will get some sun!!
The Good Lady picked up her phone and unlocked the screen.
NOOOOO!!
I leapt to my feet like a Hells Angel spying a discarded almond Croissant in a bin.
What the flying fuck?!
The Good Lady squawked with indignation as I batted her phone from her hand as if it were another man's penis.
DONT LOOK AT THE WEATHER!
My voice warbled in panic and I kept my hand outstretched at her like that mad bint in Stranger Things who makes things fly about whilst wearing bad jumpsuits.
Why the hell did you knock my phone out of my hand?!
She was not amused, her mouth scrunched up cutely like a gerbil's rectum.
You can't check the bloody weather. Not in Scotland?! Not just before you go on holiday?!
I shook my head emphatically from side to side like Jordan Peterson blowing raspberries on his secret transvestite lover's belly.
Why the hell can't we check the weather?! We always check the weather before we go away?
The Good Lady once more stretched out her hand toward her phone. I contemplated diving onto it as if it were a live grenade and I was twice the man I thought I was.
You cannot check the weather before a Scottish holiday. If you do it will rain the entire time. You cannot mess with such things. If we do not check the weather then the chances are we might cop some sun but that won't happen if you do check the weather. You will lock in the rain and the holiday will be shite. It's like quantum mechanics or something. You know, Heisenberg's Cat.
I waggled a finger at her in a no no no fashion.
Heisenberg? You mean Schrodinger? Schrodinger's cat?
She let out a snigger and then quickly hid it.
Yes yes, fucking Schrodinger. Heisenberg is the one that made all the Crystal Meth.
We both nodded at that.
Fuck it. I am checking the weather. We can't go blind. It is the middle of summer. I mean, it is Scotland but it's Summer. It can't possibly rain the whole time.
This time she made it to her phone and flicked it open. She looked at me, then the screen.
For the love of God woman, don't do it!?!
I wailed but it was no use. She tapped the screen and then looked at it in horror.
Oh my God. It's raining every single day?! But how? It's bloody summer!?
She turned her phone at me disbelievingly.
I shook my head sadly.
I told you so.
