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A recent conversation with my mum that explains my frequent headaches.

Mum got a new book on Green’s Playhouse, an old Glasgow dance hall.

Me:”Do you like your book?”

Mum:”No, it doesn’t have any pictures.”

Me:”There are pictures on nearly every page”

Mum: “But not any pictures I wanted to see. Did they have any CDs about it?

Me: “Yes, they have a double CD of music recorded there.”

Mum: “So I can watch it on that TV?”

Me: “No, Mum. It’s a CD, not a DVD.”

Mum: “So there’s no pictures then?”

Me: “No, Mum.”

Mum: “Ah well, not really surprised. They didn’t have DVDs back then.”

Is it wine o’clock yet?
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