That's Chickie NOT Chuckie...

Chimp came round to play today. I’ve known Chimp since I was five years old. We grew up in the same village, went to the same schools, did the same college course and we even lived together (in a strictly platonic way).

He struggles like Glam-Nan when it comes to the spoken word. He’s called Chickie “Chuckie” all day and has mispronounced my sister’s name for the last 30 years.

When we were at college, Chimp used to have the highly irritating habit of reading out loud whatever the tutor wrote on the board to his fellow classmates. He would have done well to have kept quiet on the occasion he chose to pronounce “monopoly” - “MOE – NO – POE – LY”. Unfortunately, it got worse for Chimp when he did a talk on office equipment and referred to “facsimiles” as “FAX-SMILIES” for the entire presentation.

Other fun memories of Chimp include the time he nearly set fire to my flat by trying to light kitchen roll using my electric hob as he couldn’t find matches. I staggered out of my smoke-filled room at 1am to find a drunk Chimp loitering at the scene of the crime. I showed incredible restraint by not killing him when he denied any involvement.

Then there’s the time we went skiing and he put me down a red run on ski blades. I should mention, I can’t ski. I went down that slope faster than a bullet out a gun. People in overhead cable cars were pointing. The only way I could stop was to throw myself to the ground and pray that God would have mercy on my soul. Thankfully, God did, and I miraculously survived.

Gave Chickie a bath this evening and had a freak accident with his bubblebath. I flipped down the lid and a massive blob flew straight into my left eye. No tears formula my big, fat bottom. It happened 2 hours ago and my eye's still watering.

A compromise has been reached in the spare room. (See Spot the Difference below if confused!)