As Mad as a Gum Tree Full of Galahs
“G’day, Daddi. How ya going?”
“I’m well, thank you, Rinpoche. How are you?”
“Good, Daddi. Why aren’t you at the place called Work today? Are you chucking a sickie?”
“No, Rinpoche, I’m not pretending to be sick. I have a big project that I’m working on from home.”
“Good onya, mate!”
“Rinpoche, I notice you’re speaking Australian strine.”
“Yes, Daddi, it’s such a great language! I like all the Australian words that make everything sound so cute and small. Don’t you think that a postie and a milko sound much friendlier than a postman or milkman? Even nasty things sound nice – like mozzies and pollies.”
“I can understand mosquitoes being nasty, but what’s wrong with pollies? I like parrots.”
“I’m talking about politicians, Daddi. When you call them pollies, you forget how loud, vain and greedy some of them can be.”
“I’m glad you’ve got over your disapproval of Australian slang, Rinpoche. You used to complain about it before.”
“That’s not true, Daddi! It was you who made a fuss about it. I pointed out to you that Australian words add colour to the English language.”
“No, Rinpoche, I was the one who told you that. Surely you remember saying that you wished your friend, Harry, would speak the Queen’s English?”
“Of course not, Daddi! Why would I say something so mean when Harry is my best friend? You said it, and I told you at the time that you were being a snob.”
“I’m afraid you are having problems with your memory, Rinpoche.”
“It’s you who is forgetful, Daddi. But I’ll overlook it because I realize old people get confused. Let’s not have a blue about it.”
“I don’t want an argument either, but there’s nothing wrong with my memory, Rinpoche. And I’m not that old either.”
“Then why has some of the fur on your head turned grey, Daddi? I’m really worried about you. You’re not making any sense at all. I hate to say this, but you’re acting like you’ve got a few roos loose in the top paddock!”
“And you, my dear cat, are as mad as a gum tree full of galahs!”
