Crash Grandadicoot

I spent another night with the grandparents last night after himself decided a few hours in St. James' A&E would be a smashing way to spend his (and Nana's) Sunday evening. He slipped on the bathroom floor and banged his head, so it was off for a spin in the ambulance to get checked out. (There was nothing on telly anyway). He was discharged after a couple of hours with a printed list of symptoms to look out for and a mild sense of euphoria but I volunteered to stay overnight just to give Nana peace of mind. We called my mam before heading to bed, and Granda asked to speak to her, winking at me and telling me he was going to "wind her up goodo". He launched into a joke about how he was going to complain to the council about the fierce hard concrete they're using these days but lost track of it about halfway through and started talking bollocks to my bewildered mother. "Listen to him" said Nana, obviously mortified, "if anyone heard him they'd put him in a padded room". She giggled then. "He could fall over all he liked then, I suppose".

I'm going to get him a crash helmet and some kneepads for Christmas.