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Chuckle

I couldn't help but chuckle last night with me Dad attempting to help the little two legged fella with his homework on WWII. Perhaps inevitably Hitler got a mention, to which the lad innocently enquired "what was his catchphrase?" That tickled me as personally I wasn't aware that he'd done any stand-up work, but sarcastic bastard that he is me Dad immediately replies in his best Kenneth Williams voice "I think it was Oooh, aren't you Kampf!" He's a ruthless bastard. The other two legged reckoned that she'd spotted a three legged cow in a field on Saturday afternoon. She took some stick for that one too. "Yeah, maybe they're eating it bit by bit." That sort of thing. "Look there's one with no legs, the one lying down. And there's another with only two legs, oh no sorry that's a duck." Then, later on, bored in the garden centre he swore that he'd spotted a packet of "grow your own cheese." Does me head in sometimes. Pooh count: just the one, about the size of the Faroe Islands it was, but warmer obviously. And it didn't have one of them funny little woolen hats on before you ask.

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