He Speaks my Language

Nothing very serious this time, but  an amusing ( I hope) look at the barriers and bridges language can build 

“You will try to get on with Great Uncle Henry,” James’ mother pleaded as they drove over for Sunday lunch.  “You have a lot in common – he was quite wild in his youth, too!”

“When he used to hang out with his great friend Noah?  Don’t worry mum, I’ve done some research as part of my A Level English Language.  No probs, mum…”

“You will try to get on with young James, Henry,” his wife, Hattie, pleaded.  “Underneath it all he’s a nice lad.  And you were a bit of a rebel when I first knew you!”

“Don’t worry, Hattie.  I’ve been doing some research on the inter-net.  I think I’ve got a surprise in store for him!”

“What-ho, Uncle Henry!” was James’ greeting.  “Hope you’re as right as rain!”

“Respect, James!  You look bad, I’m glad to say!”

The two men looked at each other in surprise and dawning amusement.  The two women shook their heads and exited hastily to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

“You’re speaking my language.  Awesome!” said Henry.

“And you’re speaking mine!  Fab!  Jolly D!  Saves arguing the toss all the time,” James responded.

“Young James, you look wicked!  I bet you’re a babe-magnet,” said his great-uncle.

“I’m sure you had your moments, as the actress said to the bishop,” responded his great-nephew.  “We’ll get on like a jolly old house on fire!”

“There’s a real babe – a blonde - as barmaid in the Pig and Whistle – shall we go there and see?” asked Henry.

“Blonde? natural or bottle?”

“Not sure, James.  Could be an aviation blonde!”

……………………………………………………………………………..

The two were still laughing as they passed through the kitchen on the way out.

“Where are you two going?” asked Aunt Hattie, pleased to see such accord.

“We’re going down the boozer – we may get tiddly, or even plastered,” James said, opening the door.

“Tiddly?  We’re going to get ab-so-lute-ly wasted!” said Henry, as he closed the door behind them.