We're all animal lovers. Vee, Edwin and I are militant enough, but Terisa is in a league of her own. I've reserved ringside seats for any occasion on which a would-be suitor -- keen to gain access to her heart (or other environs) -- tries to woo her by regaling her with tales of his cavalier attitude to dogs. He would be sent flying out of the door so fast, he'd meet himself walking in. Gents: you have been warned.
Some more of our family's private peeves and powder kegs:
- Young Edwin says that, were it not for the constraints of civility and the threat of detention, he'd punch his classmates in the face when they act up at school. He would also stick a thermonuclear missile into the nose of the offending party.
- Vee cannot fathom why Terisa and her primary chaps Scott and Larry, exist without a dish-washing machine. On this issue, Vee scoffs at them as openly as if they lived in a wattle-and-daub hut. (Which would hardly be allowed by the planning authorities in their rather posh zip code).
- With a pleasing symmetry, I rail at Vee for railing at the triad thus. I can appreciate exactly why they like doing the dishes by hand. Leave them be, girl.
- Although purer then the others, I do concede that I play mp3 files of UK talk radio under my pillow. All night, every night. Vee and Terisa can only bear this if I keep the volume as low as a flea's fart.
- Larry -- as fictionally acknowledged in an episode of 'Family' -- would like to snap barracuda-style at kids who misbehave at the dinner table.
- The triad's dog Hank, a Doberman who can talk (don't question this: we have witnesses), routinely refers to me as "that skinny English f*cker".
- And so on.
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