The phone just rang and, as I was unloading the car, I rushed to answer, without checking caller display, expecting it to be DH telling me when to expect him home. It wasn't DH but someone who said his name was Michael. The conversation went as follows:
Hello, love, how are you?
I'm fine but please don't call me love.
OK, dear, can you tell me how old your boiler is?
Please don't call me dear! Why do you want to know?
Is it over 5 years old, love?
Probably, please don't call me love.
And, do you receive any benefits, love?
No, and please don't call me love.
Oh, that means you are not entitled to a grant.
A grant for what?
A new boiler, love.
I don't want a new boiler nor did I ask if I could have a grant!
No, dear, I'm explaining you are not entitled to a grant.
PLEASE don't call me love or dear. Why did I need a grant?
I AM EXPLAINING THAT YOU ARE NOT ENTITLED TO A GRANT, DEAR!
I didn't ask for a grant, why would I need a grant and, please don't call me dear!
YOU ARE NOT ENTITLED TO HAVE A GRANT.
Then the phone went dead.
I really enjoyed myself!!
How do you acknowledge Easter.
Is there anyone who still thinks that Israel's actions in Gaza are justifiable?