Mostly, Me and Mrs P communicate verbally at varying degrees of decibels. Or by body language. In other words, soft or strong language, depending on disposition, or in total silence when we really, really, really hate each other. (Which never lasts.)
So today was odd. We started and continued an email conversation. I won’t repeat it all because it would spoil a few Christmas surprises, but it went something like this:
Pat: Good news, bad news. Cheque refund from taxman arrived, but stuff ordered from Amazon may be delivered 27th December or later.
Me: Ooops! My fault for going for the free delivery. Can this be changed?
Pat: Yep. Some items for immediate despatch, others not. Can you buy in town?
Me: No problem. If it stops raining.
Me: Mission accomplished.
Pat: Blimey! Everything?
Pat: What about your Dad? Shall we just give him the money?
Me: No, I don’t think he needs the dosh since his windfall.
Pat: What windfall?
Me: I told you about it!
With all this keyboard chatter going on, my colleague thinks I’m being groomed in a chatroom.