This is what I woke up to this morning.
Fuck off (the kid)
You bloody fockh off (the dad, sounding a bit drunk. At eight in the morning?!!)
You fuck off (the kid)
You (long pause. I could just picture him standing in their hallway two floors up desperately trying to keep his balance with one hand on his hip and the other one stretched out with his index finger towards the kid trying to look and sound authoritative. I could also predict what he was going to say next) You (short pause. And he did not disappoint) You Fockh off.
It suddenly occurred to me how much what they were doing sounded like Taarof.
Fuck off
No please you fuck off
I insist you fuck off first
No please you go ahead and fuck off first. Really I’m in no hurry
I was having a little chuckle to myself in bed when I heard a third voice, the mother or the sister or someone making a very fair and valid point.
Why don’t you both bloody well fuck off?
They say things have a way of working out and in this case it was very true. So if you were worried about this father and son’s relationship and wondering which was the one that gave in at the end and fucked off, you need not to worry yourself any longer because this little comment from the mother or sister was more than enough for the father and son to instantly put aside their differences and become allies against their new mutual enemy.
You don’t tell us to bloody fockh off.
You fuck off yourself.
Umm I love the sound of obscenities in the morning.