My other side

My favourite story of the week 

Housing group’s guerilla gardeners strike by night

~~~~~

Bit of an awkward situation this morning. Couple, late twenties came round for a chat. Sort of. "I want you to know, Wheelie" hands on hips "I didn't ask to come here". Oh, ho. She called me 'Wheelie'. That's the neighbour version of when The Bear calls me by my first name.

Then she launched into a furious argument. She. Not him. Which was nice. Seriously, it is nice. I don't know them that well, but they obviously trusted I wouldn't jump out of my chair and give them both a good clip around the 'earole.

Jump up and down, turn purple in the face and wave your arms around at me, and I'll mentally just distance off, with the image in my head of a rather demented Chicken. 'Ooh, look. A chicken' I've learned NOT to burst out laughing. Try it sometime.

It quickly became apparent it was a daft disagreement. He was giving - nay - sneaking - extra pocket money to their three young daughters. 'Cos he's a softy like that. She, thinking that wasn't very practical, (umm, agreed, sorta, blush!)  had found out. I think the clue was overhearing him say "Don't tell your mum". Oops.

I realised very quickly, as a virtual thunderstorm flashed above their heads,  that they came from very different backgrounds. He comes from a family of brothers who were encouraged to sit down and chat about problems. She comes from a family of sparky's where everyone went 'Boom'. Effectively, argue and sort it. Whoever won the argument got the reward. Conflict management.

Anyway. Sorted. Some of my views didn't go down too well. Man the head of the family anyone? (translation :- he who has final responsibility) But don't mess with the 'sisterhood'? C'mon, do I have to explain that? The ladies know. 

The kids are going to get an extra £1 a week, and a lockable box each. And I'll go through the families  finances for them.

Why me? I have absolutely no idea. I get it a lot.

You'll never guess what I'm having for tea. Kerrluk. :)