A word in your shell-like By Steve Way

 

Hello. Since some readers have kindly told me that they were tickled by my suggestion that we should say, “Pull along a chair”, rather than “Pull up a chair” in order to avoid the need for calisthenics, it made me think about other utterances we sometimes hear that make for interesting analysis.

I have noticed that when someone says to you, “I want a word with you!” that they don’t actually mean one single isolated word. They generally share quite a lot of words, most of them delivered passionately and peppered with a considerable number of adjectives not of a complimentary nature. It makes me wish I had the wherewithal – armed possibly with a helping of pompous over-confidence – to interrupt my interlocutor before he/she embarks on the inevitable tirade and exclaim, “What, only one sole word from the whole lexicon of the language of Shakespeare? Well, I advise you to choose it wisely…”

We’re all allowed to dream… (Though perhaps also wise not be a Smart Alec, particularly in such circumstances.)

I’ve also noticed that someone isn’t actually interested in beginning a philosophical debate on the nature of identity when they declare, “Who do you think you are?” In a similar vein to my fantasy above, I would love to possess the steely demeanour to reply, “Well, I think I’ve Steve… (though of course it could be an illusory construct) … who do you think you are?”

On fortunately rare occasions, I’ve come across an aggressive person, who’s been staring in my face and asking, “Wot yew lookin’ at?” It doesn’t seem an appropriate moment to point out that currently looking into the face of an apparently unfriendly person (almost exclusively not blessed with a pleasing visage) who is otherwise blocking what could only be a more pleasing view, however uninspiring, or in the words of the great P. G. Wodehouse is, “taking up space I need for other purposes.”

I think I’ve managed to avoid being on the receiving end of the question, “Are you looking at me or chewing a brick?” but I imagine on most occasions a brick is not readily available for consumption. Also, the presenter of the question possibly wouldn’t want a conversation initiated about the difficulty of chewing a brick, despite, I understand, early versions of AI probably suggesting we incorporate one into our diet and providing a recipe illustrating how to do so (perhaps spiced with non-toxic glue*).

Finally, I want to share with you an occasion when my eldest grandson, at around the age of ten, surprised me by uttering another notorious phrase. I need to prefix the tale by mentioning that he was suffering from slight sunburn on his arms at the time.

We’re lucky enough in our garden to have two trees that are the ideal distance apart to be used as a goal. On this occasion, I was bravely trying to guard the gap between the mirabelle and pear posts.** My grandson, the ball at his feet, clearly decided that he wanted to shift me away from my defensive position and tempted me with the statement, “Come on then, if you think you’re hard enough,” Never having heard him made such a surprisingly worldly statement before, I just had time to wonder where he had picked it up from before he paused and touched his arm, where his sunburn was clearly paining him. In that brief moment, he transformed from mock pub bully to vulnerable ten-year-old and uttered a plaintive, “Ow” of the kind that would make any parent or carer rush to comfort him.

Except on this occasion his grandad.

This was because, in this unintended way he achieved his aim of making my goal vulnerable because I had fallen to the ground giggling helplessly!

Moments later Man U were one up against Leeds.

*That did actually happen!

**There’s no crossbar as such, only a few high up branches, so any shot that penetrated my defences above shoulder height was worth disputing, though my grandson was never won over by my claims that he had overshot the goal. Honestly, the youth of today, no respect for grandparents trying to pull a fast one!

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The young Queen Petunia has a problem. A magic spell means that her husband, King Popple, spends the whole day reading or making up football results (and the Chamberlain can only sing and not speak). Further magic means that a kind of purply wax drips out of everyone's ears all day and all the children under the age of five in the kingdom think they are cows and stand about in fields all day eating plants. Fortunately, ingenious use of the football results saves the day!

Available on Kindle via Amazon.

ASIN: B0GFCRF6DX (the 0 is a zero)