It's amazing, you know, that a mother (Pearlie) could know her son (Bertie Boy) for nearly 50 years and still not know certain things about him. I was chatting to Pearlie about Bert's habit of stashing. As long as I've known Bert he's always stashed goodies like chocolate bars and buns. He did this because, in our house, if you left tasty things lying around they'd be scoffed for sure. Bert wasn't the best at stashing though. Either he'd hide it somewhere stupid, like under the cushion on the sofa, where the dogs would find it, or he'd hide it somewhere so cunning he'd totally forget where it was. This was all news to Pearlie. I'm not sure that she found it particularly interesting news but what else are you meant to talk to old birds about?
While we're on the subject of Bert being nearly 50, Wacko Jacko (aka Clint) walked in on Bert today while he was having a mid-morning snooze. Wacko was apparently disgusted and exclaimed:
Huh, it's bad enough ye sittin' playing that clarinet all day but sleeping?
Bert's feeble reply was that he was turning 50 this year. But as mum pointed out, what was his excuse when he was 40? He was psyching himself up for it.
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