No, but seriously. I have been SO overworked by that control freak, Mrs Doonuthin ... that I just snap. And here I am - head lolling all over the place.
Mrs Doonuthin screams. As usual. Pours herself a glass of red and fixes me with a steely glare.
Half hour later... after surgical procedures that I will not recount ... my head's back on. Bit stiff. But that's only to be expected.
I suppose the woman is useful for some things.
And The Old Man is well impressed.