If only my head was smaller

I know it’s a corny way to start a post, but a very strange thing really did happen to me today. Well, to be more precise, it was a weird thing that was said to me.

I was having lunch with Jes and Mrs Tips, and we were depressing ourselves with serious talk of financial meltdowns and shrinking savings when Mrs Tips says, “I’ll show you my little hats once the custard is out of the way.”

Yes, you read it right, and no, she wasn’t drunk. I just sat back and drank it in. Lifted from the gloom of our discussion, I sat and marvelled at the unpredictability of a life that, just when you are not expecting it, throws something like that at you, as if to say, ‘ha, what do you think of that then?’. It was a beautiful moment. No-one has ever said it to me before, and never will again. In fact, I could spend the rest of my life researching bizarre conversations and not come up with anything better.

If it all gets too much for me and I pass away in my sleep tonight, then let it be known that I died a happy man. In fact, put it on my headstone:

‘Once the custard had moved
He got to see the little hats. RIP.’

And what lovely little hats they were. Once Mrs Tips had checked my hands for custardy remnants, I was even allowed to fondle them. Like little egg-cosies, all different designs, all soft and woolly. Apparently they are to be worn by smoothy bottles in a promotion to help the aged. Of course, why didn’t I think of that? For a moment, I thought the world was going mad.