One night my family and I had just finished having dinner and we were gunna have a hot drink and a custard square each. So we did. And there was one square left over and I bet everyone else to it.
I was feeling pretty pleased with myself, looking down at this lump of yellow on my plate as I walked back into the living room.
I came in and Dad started spitting tacks, so I went to give him the smart-arse thumbs up. As my hand came up I whacked the plate and my square catapulted onto the floor in front of me.
It's the first time I'd ever made Dad cry (tears of laughter), not from the waste of a custard square, but because my cheekyness came back and kicked me in the arse. I take the rap when carrying anything around the house now.
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She thinks I'm a reclusive genius, she's going to be very disappointed when she finds out i'm a reclusive w anker
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