Wha's Deid Noo?

There was nothing like a death for getting things going. After getting the black-edged summons (‘Uncle Walter’s deid. Ah thought he died years ago’), we’d traipse round for the viewing.

‘Aye, he’s lookin’ gud.’

When our own relatives weren’t dying quickly enough, we’d use any old death as an excuse. Mum just had to say a name and dad took up the litany:

‘Elvis.’

‘Deid?’

‘Aye.’

‘I’ll be gettin’ some cans in, then.’

That was the time mum whacked dad with the poker so hard she nearly killed him. He staggered and fell to the floor.

We all laughed.