i have no name for this
Evening at the Chateau.
"Your brother left a nappy on the window sill," the Mammy informed me.
She let the statement hang in the air.
Ireland's greatest living poet showed no interest, choosing instead to remain buried in his disapproval of Southpark.
In truth I was aware that any wrong move at this stage would see me dispatched on a nappy removing mission.
It's not my favourite task.
"Do you not care?" said the Mammy after a decent interval.
"No, I don't care," sez I.
"But what will Mags think?" wondered the Mammy.
Her concern for Mags Masefield the cleaning lady was touching indeed.
"Lil old pal," sez I with great care. "Last week I found a soiled nappy on my pillow. You were aware of its presence there and yet had no compunction about allowing it to remain in situ till I returned home after a hard day's lechery vis a vis the Russians. As I remember, you waited for me in the hall and laughed fit to burst a gasket when I discovered the offending item. You will understand that from my point of view, Doctor Barn leaving his children's nappies on the window is a substantial improvement on his previous practice."
"Are you going to move the nappy?" sez she.
"Alright, alright," sez I rising to my feet.
I glanced back at the television.
It was one of the good episodes.
The one with the Hardy Boys in it.
"Tell me how it ends," sez I exiting.
"Okay," sez the Mammy.
She didn't even wait for the door to close before changing to World's Greatest Millionaire.