The Bish Unpacks

By Sandshoe

The Bish is excited. The Bish is having an episode. The good Father O’Way is excited. The staff at Glenda’s Waxing are excited. The Bish has not attended one of FOW’s At Homes for a good while so we are all excited his Uber turned up at the Manse front gate. One of FOW’s specialties is a rousing ‘At Home’.

FOW’s not above inviting a good dance troupe to perform either on the Manse lawn. He has asked the PA’s Morris Dancers. They have showed good form over the years.

Myself I have never heard of any of them. When I suggest I think they have danced off and away to Morris Dancers’ Dance Heaven in the sky (perhaps that is a bit long winded ha! ha! ha! hiccup!), the Bish scoffs.

“Bollocks, Christina!”

I am of a mind to write him out of this one. I keep a cap on it. I see the juxtaposition as well of the sweary word and my name, my real name, sounds with unexpected resonance.

“This is an opportunity sent from…”

“Shut up,” the Bish demands, interrupts says it mildly, “Shut up.”

He’s not happy I think the Morris Dancers are no more.

“No more, the derry-o,” I sing to keep things on the up and up, cheerful.

“We never know who anybody really is,” the Bish opines.

*Father O’Way

**Window Dresser’s Arms, Pig and Whistle