I walked into the lounge, possibly (probably) wearing something pink (probably fuchsia) (okay it was definitely fuchsia) (yes I understand this is becoming worrisome) (yes, I know, both the interminable parentheses AND the fuchsia obsession) (ANYWAY)
Mummy-dearest: Hello Pinky
Sir C: Hee. I guess that makes me The Brain!
Me: Hee. No. You’re definitely Pinky. I’m The Brain.
Sir C: Are you calling me stupid?
Me: No! nononononono! Just that You are tall while I am short, have a large head, and am infinitely more misanthropic than you my darling-dear
Sir C: … true**.
* She was a little confused. Cartoons from the late 1990s are not her specialist subject***.
** It is true.
*** It isn’t OUR specialist subject either. We were just the right age at the right time and the theme song was damn catchy and and and oh forget it.