The taxing of my Granny loot......

I love my sister. She's good people. Always in good form and rarely puts the kids on the phone to talk to me, which is of course a blessed relief. Is there anything more tiring?

"Hello Jude."

No response

"Hello Jude, you being a good boy?"

No response except for the sound of an action figure being chewed.

"What're you up to?"

A voice from behind shouts, "Say hello to your Uncle Manuel"

No response and on it goes for about five minutes.

Oh the jolly japes we would get into as kids, her washing my hair, and as a consequence a large portion of my head, in the toilet and me, well, letting her. Like I had a choice. We would fight, as kids do, hair pulling, name calling, stuff breaking, nipping, oh yes she did it all. But when mum got sick she ironed my shirts and made me happy or rather, less sad.

But we have always loved each other and not just because we were required to under the law of family.

She's ace.

But she used to pull this one particular move that pissed me right off. When granny came to visit she would always deposit a decent sized note into my sisters hand. Five pounds was a big deal back then. Hell a tenner and I'd be getting on like JD Rockefeller! But my sister, my surrogate mother, the original picker upper after me would cut me out of the cash. Oh yes she would tax my granny dollars. If granny gave her ten pounds it would always be on the understanding that I got half. Did I get half? Did I fuckity! I got a quarter at best. This deception only came to light when granny whispered to me that she had given my charming sister a rather spiffing ten pounds note, of which I was to get half.

can I have some money now please?

I waited patiently for my half of the granny loot to materialise. I waited. I waited. I waited some more, little did I know I would spend my life waiting. Some time later she came to me and popped £2.50 into my tiny hand. I had been swizzed and I knew it. I protested and whinged and demanded my full half. I never got it.

I bring this up not to embarrass my sister or cause her hurt but because it happened again on Saturday night. Granny has long since shuffled of this mortal coil to dole out granny loot somewhere else and my sister never gets near my cash now.

No, this time I was shafted, not for the first time, by a fat man. Fat man, fat man's lovely wife and their not so fat friends all enjoyed a peachy evening of glorious food, splendiferous wine, and sparkling discourse. I kicked this sparkling discourse off with a few well placed anecdotes and appropriate one liners. It couldn't have gone better. They loved me, I loved them. I say loved them but it was more akin to the relationship between cat and person with cream. Eventually I would walk off and lick myself having got what I wanted.

Fat man came to the register to pay the bill. He was full of chat and eulogistic in his praise of the food and service. I blushed. We shook hands and he headed to the bathroom whilst his wife and chums put their coats on. She approached me, a little worse the wear with all the expensive Shiraz she had been guzzling and insisted on giving me a big hug and kiss. This actually did remind me of a granny kiss. But as we embraced she whispered that she had left twenty whole pounds on the table. I looked over her shoulder and yes indeed there was two crisp ten pound notes in the middle of the table.

Lovely bubbly.

I managed to break from her grasp just as the fat man returned from extraditing his bowls. The rest headed on but fat man had left his jacket at the table. I stood impassively as he went to the table to collect it. He picked up his jacket and as he put it on he gulped down the last dregs of his wine. But what's this? He's spied the tip on the table. He's checking the tip on the table. He's not. He fucking is. He pocketed one of the crisp ten pound notes. And of he sauntered. The fat wobbly cunty bastard.

My granny loot had been taxed again. My only solace being that Mr Stroke and Mr Heart Attack will be visiting the fat fuck sooner rather that later and then he has my granny to deal with.