I'm sitting at the dinner table looking at the boy and he is clearly talking. His lips and hands are moving, and there is a distinctive buzz coming out of his mouth, but for the life of me, I have no idea what the words are.
No Idea. None. I want to look at him and ask "What the hell are you trying to share with me? I don't speak Greek, and I don't speak Alien."
But, alas, I don't. I sit here and ponder the value of a Cuppa-Jo at this later hour.
Is it worth it? Not quite sure.
If THEBOY stops talking in a few more moments, then no... but if the drone continues on into the night, I'm going to need some fortification.
Yeah, it's been THAT day.
