Through the day, I am generally alone with The Biddles, as we call GD. Conversation is, of course, of a high intellectual standard. She and I discuss disestablishmentarianism, and go from aardvarks to zygotes…she was one of the latter recently, so she has a lot to say about it.
But this leaves me weary and rather over-stimulated, and I look forward to DnA’s return home. Ah, I think to myself, how nice it will be to have everyday, simple conversation…what did you do at work? What’s happening in the outside world?
So then, A comes back and indulges in the following very meaningful monologue:
You can hear me complaining that even poor GD is not getting a chance to get a word in edgeways!
So…conversational IQ levels go down sharply, along with the sun, these days…