The old man has good news about a great discovery for people who can’t sleep.
He can’t sleep: “I only fall asleep around 2am and then sleep for a few hours” he complains.
I visited overnight recently and urged him to take the sleeping tablets he had. Mom gave one to him and he carried it around. No, he’d take it later, not now.
We all went to bed.
At 3am I’m woken by Mom: The ole man is wandering around the house wide awake and shouting at the people out on the lawn who are carrying away his furniture! He’s hallucinating. “Peter there’s no-one there” says Mom patiently. “Well then who do you think I’m talking to?” he replies belligerently, shining his torch out the window and shouting to the imaginary chair thieves; “Speak up! I can’t hear you!”
So that didn’t work.
Now he has a potion. “It’s made from two flowers. One flower is from Europe. It’s herbal, so it should be mild.” Ja, I think, cyanide is herbal, Dad. “It’s homeopathic I think,” he says. Ja, I think.
So now he phones me to give me the amazing news about his new discovery: It works!
“I took them and nothing happened. But the pharmacist said they’d take time to work. And then wragtig, they did work last night! I fell asleep around 2am and then slept for a few hours.”
Then he said “I hear you owe me some money?”
Ja? I say.
“I hear I gave you quite a show the night you slept here.”
Ja, I say.
“Don’t you think you should pay for such a good show?”
The cheque is in the post, I say.
wragtig – true’s bob