Recycling the recycling and so forth and so on and suchlike!!!!

‘I’ve been thinking Bing.’

‘Always a dangerous thing guv.’

I look down at the lad, and realise he’s more engrossed in tackling the unzipping of an old goats milk carton, than my present turn of mind.

‘Where did you get that from Bing?’ (This is me trying to sound assertive.)

Again the lad pauses and looks sweetly up at me.

‘It’s from the cardboard waste shelve, old poop. You know that, because you always ‘tup’ when I select a particularly toothsome addition from that pile.’

‘Ah well, um, yes, well.....are you going to replace the other shelf items that have been dislodged by your hooter in order that you could acquire your hearts desire?’

I’m starting to sound rather hollow, and frankly wondering why I’m pursuing this current line of chat.

‘You know old fruit there are, as you would say, two chances of that happening. One of them being a ‘dogs’ chance, and the other?’

‘No chance’ tumbles into my mind, and further pursuance of this particular topic is abandoned.

‘So, old puffer what have you been thinking?’

‘M’mm, what?  Oh right….um….no it’s gone. Now what was 
it….um?

The lad has completed the dissection of the carton and made a certain amount of effort to pile up the resultant debris with his conk.

‘Stone me Bing, was it worth it?’

‘Most toothsome, aged gaffer, definitely worth the effort.’

I pick up the pieces and place them in a carrier bag, full of recent similar efforts of Bing, and awaiting transfer to the cardboard and paper bin outside.

On my way back into the kitchen I remember what it was that I was thinking.

‘That’s it Bingo, I’ve remembered what it was I was thinking……….’

My voice trails away as I’m confronted with an area of floor piled with various newspapers, cereal boxes and cartons.

‘Oh Bing!’

‘Yes Guv?’

‘Why?’

‘Why Old poop?

‘Yes, WHY?’

‘Well you see ancient puffer, this particular shelf, on occasion, has the faintest whiff of something thoroughly toothsome, to the educated hooter of the hound before you.’

‘And?’

‘Honestly guv, it’s completely impossible for the enquiring mind of this chap, not to heed his natural instinct to enquire within when confronted with such delightful zephyrs pervading the intake tubes, i.e. the snout, of yours truly.’

I sigh, I shrug, he departs and I gather up the pile and decide to take them out to the bin.

I return to the hall moments later, to find the bag of recent cardboard dissections by you know who, strewn across the carpet.

‘Oh no what’s all this?’

The lad sidles out of the lounge, a piece of card in his mouth.’

‘Really Bing……why?’

‘The thing is old grouser, as I said, it’s completely impossible for the enquiring mind of this chap, not to heed his natural instinct to enquire within when confronted with such delightful zephyrs pervading the intake tubes, i.e. the snout, of yours truly.’

He graciously allows me to relieve him of the piece of card in his mouth, and this is added to the other pieces and taken outside to the bin.

On my return, I find Bing sitting very neatly on the couch, watching ski jumping.

‘Any good Bing?’

‘Not half guv!’

We settle down and watch.

‘ Old poop?’

‘Yes Bing.’ (It’s hard to remain cross with the lad for too long.)

‘What was it you were thinking about?’

I think……I think harder….and harder!

‘Oh……blooming NUTS!’

‘Really guv? Walnuts or Brazils?’

‘Neither!’

‘Ooop’s…..’