I have some strange quirks.
I tend to speak before I think.
Act a bit daft.
Do ridiculous happy dances over the tiniest things.
Can go from unbelievably happy to full on rage in 0.6 seconds.
Talk a lot of nonsense, about 95% of the time – I don’t even know what I’m trying to say for the majority.
I am probably a complete pain in the ass to a lot of people.
And it may be endearing to some fellow weirdos.
Don’t really care.
The root of the problem
But it’s in situations where I haven’t spoken to my parents for a while that I realise exactly where I got it from.
Especially when I’m mid-conversation on Skype and my dad disappears for a minute.
And comes back with a Scotmid basket that he nicked from the supermarket.
Because he didn’t want to pay 5p, 5p! for a bag.
This would also be the reason I’m a cheap skate. But that’s another matter.
One day, I might, maybe, possibly, highly unlikely, have a “normal” conversation with my parents.
But then it would just be boring. So maybe not.
Life’s too short to be “normal”.
I am related to this weirdo. This happy little basket thief >>>