Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Sunday, 26 July 2015
What do you want from life?
Today is preparation day for H.I.'s Summer School. Once again, the easels are being packed into the car, and a lot of sweet biscuits are going to be bought from Lidl. I am trying not to think about ants, but I cannot wait until Wednesday for some anti-ant stuff bought last night on eBay, so I'm stopping off at the garden centre as well.
I was half asleep this Sunday morning, listening to a church service on the radio, when the preacher woke me up with this tale:
His wife had gone off in the car, leaving him and his daughter sitting in the kitchen waiting for her return.
Soon, they both received a text message from her, and it asked, "What do you want from Life?"
They sat there for ages, wondering where she was and worrying about what state of mind she was in. She had shown no signs of mental turbulence or depression when she left.
When she eventually got back, she was confused by their concern, but all became clear when she re-read her text to them.
She had used 'predictive text' on her phone, and what she thought she had typed in was, "What do you want from Lidl?"