Coralie came home one night and went straight to bed. The next morning I scolded her for not having taken off her make-up.
“It’s not make-up, Mum, it’s a black eye.”
“A black eye? How?”
It took a while to get any sense out of her but finally she told me ‘her’ version of the truth.
Now she may be on the smaller side of the scale, but would you believe your daughter if she gave you this answer?
“I walked into a chair.”
Her boyfriend looked at me and raised his eyebrows, while I was trying to visualise a chair high enough for Coralie to walk into.
Nope. I still don’t buy her story.
11 Comments
Why not ask the chair? You’ll probably get as much sense out of it…
Chairs… you can never trust them.
Uh huh…You want I should contact some old friends in Brooklyn that still owe me favors?
Pissed! Same as mum!
John, that’s what I suspect, but she’s a sensible girl….
Perhaps she was drunk and was on her knees when she walked into it. Why not get the boyfriend on his own and see what he says?
Anji, “apparently”, he wasn’t there as “apparently” it happened at college…”apparently”…
Was it a flying chair?
I should definitely have a word with the boy friend. It’s worth checking out.
Was someone wielding the chair and hit her with it?
Hope the Twat’s back is better. Tell him to hold hid nose firmly next time he feels a sneeze coming on.
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