Monday, August 7, 2017. Daily Brit Wit.
Verb, chiefly Scottish
Talk in a long winded-way without making much sense.
Long winded talk with no real substance.
"Her head is piercing, low and dull thuds in time to her arrhythmia and children squawking for her undivided attention. She presses the left heel to her temple and catches the pacifier her youngest throws over his carrier. She glares at him to quell bad behaviour and doesn't return it immediately. Her other children are itching to run rampant in the park, but are currently sitting side-by-side and knocking into each other testing to see if they can bump off the bench.
She exhales noisily.
Her husband grips her free hand, pacifier and all, and tugs her into his side. She's a tad reluctant. But a sweet kiss to her aching temple helps alleviate her skepticism.
She shoots up like a track runner upon sighting her friend. 'Mary!' She shouts across the park gleefully.
Mary, a tall and stout woman with flowing dark hair, reacts similarly by calling, 'Annie!'
The women meet in the middle, arms thrown around each other, while husbands and children are temporarily forgotten. They hook arms and bend their heads conspiratorially, the occasional giggle slipping through before the other shushes insincerely.
Finally, Mary's bedraggled husband and her three children make it to the bench Annie's family occupies. The men share a fist bump and the children chatter amiably. They shuffle closer. Annie recalls the ransomed pacifier in her fist still and pops it in her youngest's mouth.
Upon standing, she dusts off biscuit crumbs and crusty, unidentifiable substances and beams at her husband. 'Well, we're off for our blether now.'
Mary laughs and stuffs a hold-all on the seat next to her spouse. 'You know the rules,'
'No calls unless an emergency,' Annie picks up.
'And what constitutes as an emergency?'
'Blue lips?' Mary's husband deadpans.
Mary chucks a wadded up napkin square on his nose. 'Wanker,' she mouths because the action piques the attention of little ears.
Annie shakes with suppressed amusement. 'Nappies are your responsibilities. You can do sustenance, yeah? And for the love of all that's holy on the face of this earth, don't lose a child.'
Annie and Mary make quick work kissing their respective progeny, then swap and peck the foreheads of the other's, wave goodbye to their spouses, and trot off.
'Café today?' Mary inquires.
'Gah, no!' Annie bemoans. 'No, we're going somewhere a little more grownup and a lot more sophisticated, if you don't mind?'
Mary shoots her a devious smirk. 'I like the way you think, mate.'
They amble into the zebra crossing and disappear into the crowd."