The 'she'll be right' school of mattress moving
Grandpa, over-zealous guardian of evening sanctity
"We are in our 80s watching the 6 o'clock news," writes Peter Norwood of Devonport. "The phone rings, another charity wanting more money or someone from overseas wanting to fix our computer? In full protection mode I answer. A small childlike voice, Marie, wants to speak to Mary. A new technique to pull on the heart strings? "Well you can't", and just as more from Marie begins, I put the phone down. Satisfaction. A moment or two later the phone rings again, "Grrrr!". The same voice only even more plaintive this time. "Why can't I speak to my Grandma?" — Oh! Oh! — turns out it was "Ngaire" phoning to confirm biscuit-making with Grandma the next day after primary school. There are fences to mend, probably cost a bit."
Caroline Bree took her visiting friend's dog for a walk at the beach.
"He was called Jesus because he was born on Christmas Day after the vet said his mother definitely wasn't pregnant. He really liked swimming so I was the person wandering the empty beach yelling 'Jesus, come back!'"
I, for one, welcome our new insect overlords
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