Daddy-Bear, you left the toilet window open last night??
I looked at the Good Lady as if she were a puppy with tiny but ever so cute paws that had shat the floor.
Of course I left the toilet window open last night, it was 24 degrees Celsius which is quite literally the temperature of the surface of the sun!
I bellowed merrily, giving my thigh a big slap to emphasise my hilarity.
Very funny, but you know it's not funny. It's not funny at all. That window swings open really easily. A burglar could get in!?
She looked all frowny, like a dowdy girl stalking Justin Bieber on Instagram.
Lady, are you serious? It was bloody roasting hot last night. It was so fucking hot that my nadgers melted clean off and now I'm doomed to roam the world, an unballed.
I made an explodey gesture at my down belows with my hands and let out a heartfelt sob.
The Good Lady batted at my hands in exasperation.
Stop that. I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you. It was a little bit warm, yes, but still, we can't go leaving windows like that open?
She set her lips in a grim line as if she were readying herself to give me my monthly service.
What Windows would you prefer me to leave open? The windows to our souls? No thank you.
I grinned at my imaginary audience and let out a chuckle.
Listen to yourself, you're doing that thing.
She folded her arms and let her breath hiss out of her pursed lips..
What thing?
I asked innocently.
That thing where you argue like mad and say stupid crazy things to avoid admitting you are wrong?
She flung the words at me with unerring precision like an old silverback at the zoo throwing its poo at an old lady wearing an exotically brimmed hat.
What!?! I never do any such thing. Besides, how dare you say such a thing to an unballed? Have you no pity? It's ok for you with your fertile big vagina flapping out children left right and centre but I'll miss my funbags. I simply can't have any more children without them.
I waggled my head in distress at the very idea of an unbagged life.
See, you're doing that thing and you already have children anyway. I am quite sure you don't want any more.
The Good Lady smirked at the very idea.
Damn, who told you about the children? I swear, we were on a break!?
I squawked in outrage at the infidels who had betrayed me.
Enough!! Just close the bloody burglar's door at night, understand!?
The Good Lady yelled before stamping away shaking her head and muttering about idiots.
I huffed sulkily as if I had been given a crochet set for Father's Day.
Aye, alright then. Keep your hair on.
