Survivor

Yesterday’s corner time: 4 Minutes.

It turns out that the fairer sex is a complicated species and they’re not at all as simple as they look. This is both misleading and quite sneaky.

For example, last weekend, after we had been camping for three days in a location with no toilets or showers, I should have perhaps behaved slightly more sensitively when my mother commented upon how awful she must look.

Dad was quite rude and pretended not to hear the question. Therefore, to show that someone was listening, I voiced my agreement. And then, just in case she hadn't heard me, I confirmed that she really did look quite terrible.

Now, this was apparently where my behaviour deviated from those with a more highly developed sense of self-preservation.

Dad, by now, had mysteriously disappeared altogether. Mum seemed to becoming more and more irate but I was determined to cheer her up.

There and then, I composed a new song entitled "Smelly Mum" and I was just about to repeat the rousing chorus for the third time when a scream of “INCOMING!” rang from the bushes directly behind me. Ah, so that’s where Dad is I thought. Then everything went dark.

Dad’s missile warning had arrived too late but he did eventually volunteer that girls don’t always want you to agree with them. The trick is to know when.

I hope that I live long enough to find out.

Matthew.