Every night since I moved into the castle last November, just as I’m going to sleep I’ve shouted at the lamp-post outside my window. I even tic about it when I stay at other people’s houses. In short, it’s become an established part of my night time routine.
Until today, no other lamp-posts have provoked a response at all. But earlier my boss noticed that a lamp-post at the edge of the playground where we work needed some repairs. She asked a colleague to look at it and make sure it was safe. Bunny, who was supporting me, said ‘Don’t mention lamp-posts!’ But it was too late – my tics immediately went into overdrive:
“Fix up lamp-post.”
“Lamp-post put some pants on.”
“Oh lamp-post, sort your bottom out.”
Through the laughter, I had to explain the whole lamp-post saga to my boss.