Pants

That cat's not right in the head, running around in circles.

The woman who works in the staff canteen danced vigorously to the fire alarm test this morning. It really made me laugh, I think because it was so out of the blue, and not something I'd imagined her doing. It was very courageous of her. And she put her all into it, knees bending underneath her apron to move her body up and down, back straight, hair still tucked into a hair net, and keeping time with her bending knees were her thumbs alternately held aloft and slung as far back as they would go over her shoulders as if they were fresh from holding onto a pair of dungaree straps.

I prefer you the way you was before with the false smile and the face pump and the foul mouth. 

Walking home from work random memories played out in my head as they quite often do, such as one of the rare times I spoke up in class at school, when I was confident that what I was about to say was going to be very funny. I'd learnt a new word, 'kegs', off my Dad, meaning 'pants'. I think the teacher had been talking to us about the school play and the costumes that would be worn by some of my class mates, and this is what might have prompted me to pipe up and use my new funny word when I asked if they'd be wearing their kegs. A very juvenile question, but I was only 8 or 9 years old. The teacher didn't know what kegs meant and looked perplexed as he sat casually on the front of his desk, and asked me to repeat the word several times and explain myself. I didn't feel too disheartened even though my big moment had died on it's feet, or in a pair of kegs you might say.