I was feeling blue this morning, I think was a pre-menstrual blue, but
I was cheered when I got to work. My co-worker and I talked in British
accents all day. I pretend to be a frail old woman who bosses him
around and he pretends to be an overly polite landlord he once had. We
sang the songs from The Sound of Music duet-style and he sang a few
show tunes solo. We did some fine paintings of searchlights with a
bold 80's color palette, during which time he told me a wonderful
story that goes like this.
When he was a little boy he and his sister
over heard his aunt and mother having a conversation. The aunt said "I
bet it was that fucker, Dean, " but to him and his sister it sounded
like a unique and cute swear word, "fuckerdeen". So the two of them
started to use that word and still do. Recently that aunt was in the
hospital with cancer. He was able to tell her about the story
before she died and she really enjoyed it. She even remembered who
that fucker Dean was.