The window cleaner is flirting with mum again. Gran just asked dad if their behaviour makes him jealous. He says it doesn't because he's not at all attracted to the window cleaner. I must have done something pretty awful in a former life to deserve relatives as thick as this.
Mum has spent the last three hours applying makeup and doing her hair. I suspect the window cleaner must be due to collect his money. I personally don't know why she's bothering. It's her tits that he talks to, not her face.
The window cleaner's here. He's currently updating his Facebook status from the top of a ladder. I find it hard to believe that anyone would give a toss about the fact that he's cleaning a window. He says he gets a good signal up there and that he might do a 'bit of poking' whilst he's at it. Mum says he can poke her anytime he likes. The crude nature of their verbal exchanges has become worse over the years. I'm determined not to end up like her. Gran says there's no chance of that as I'm far too boring. How she can sit there and say that after my impromptu talk on nuclear fusion the other night is quite frankly beyond me!