English Dad doesn’t really do texting, which is a shame because we spend a lot of our time apart.
Well, he kind of does texting, but text conversations with him usually go something like this:
Me: ‘I just don’t know what to do about the bins. It’s really windy here and if I put them out I don’t want to be chasing down the road after them Benny Hill styley. But if I don’t put them out then I’m worried I won’t wake up in time and miss the bin men tomorrow morning…’
So imagine my dismay, then, when I was given the honour of filling out a MASSIVE form on his behalf, knowing that he was out with his mate Johnny and that I’d have to confer with him by text. The conversation, dearest reader, went something like this:
Me: ‘I need date you started there’
Him: ‘F*ck knows’
Me: ‘OK don’t worry I’ll work it out’
Me: ‘Then I need a personal reference and a next of kin’
Him: ‘You next of kin. What’s a personal ref?’
Me: ‘It can’t be me. It’s someone to give you a reference’
Him: ‘Your Dad’?
Me: ‘He’s not your kin’
Him: ‘For the reference then?’
Me: ‘OK I’ll ask. Now what about next of kin. Jesus.’
Him: ‘I don’t think I’m related…’
*LOST SENSE OF HUMOUR KLAXON*
Me: ‘Oh FFS. Pick a sodding next of kin before I tear this form up’
Him: ‘Lover, next of kin is you. Why do you keep asking?’
Me: ‘OMFG it says ‘NEXT OF KIN, NOT SPOUSE’ on the form!!!!!’
Him: ‘I don’t understand, lover. Next of kin can only be you because you’re my next of kin’.
Me: ‘It says not spouse it. Are you winding me up?’
Him: ‘Johnny D says make it him’
Me: ‘I want to stab you with a fork’
Him: ‘OK then my Mum. We still think Johnny D is best though’.