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Every night in my house after we all watched Coronation Street and had our tea my mum would tell me and my brother to do the washing up. Cue 20 minutes of fighting about who's washing and who's drying. You see my brother, he was wise to my crafty drying technique. Ever the boy scientist I thought I had mastered the domain of drying the dishes by letting them sit there for hours, evaporating all the sudsy goodness so all I had to do was put them away. My brother became all too wise to this and after routinely beating me for doing it came up with a most noble retort. This involved him pouring a jug of cold water all over the crockery every 15 minutes so they'd remain wet meaning I'd have to dry them.
Oh the fun we had, the longest stand off went on for three days with him even setting his alarm clock to get up two or three times during the night to wet the lot and in turn wash away my dreams of a washing up free childhood.
me: Hello and welcome to HMV. How may I help you sir?
him: I'm looking for a Van Damme movie but I don't know the name of it.
me: Hmm.. Ok well describe it for me and I'll try my best.
him: It's the one where he hurts his finger.
I remember being at a friends 21st at his house a few years ago. His mother had a fine selection of finger food, sweets, biscuits and the like. She was quite proud of herself, not only because of the fine array of food on offer but also because she got it all for next to nothing in a well known German discount store.
She wasn't quite so happy when I blurted out "It's like Lidl house on the prairie around here" much to everyones delight. I tired to calm her down but she was having none of that either "But they all lived hap-Aldi ever after!"
Length? 2 for 1, quit your whinning.