Wee!

Andy the Adventurer has returned from Telford. He is tired. We have been sitting on the sofa together whilst I mark another pile of books, and we have been drinking tea, eating choccie digestives and talking 'house.'

'Of course,' says Andy, all casual-like, 'I reckon that house is going to be ours.'
'Why's that, then?' says I, because only ten minutes ago he had been describing his exploration in the dark and equating it to walking through the forests in Transylvania.
'Because I marked our territory,' he says.

It takes me a moment to realise exactly what he means by 'marking our territory.

'You mean you weed?' I say.
'I was desperate,' says Andy. 'It had been a long drive. I went behind a tree. It was dark.'
'You tiddled beside our rough hillside track?' says I, who hasn't tiddled in the open air since I was eight years old.
'Like I said,' says Andy, 'it had been a long drive.'

Well! There you have it, dear reader. Open air tiddling. Malarkey standards heading towards the gutter already. It'll be feeding chickens in the nude next.

You mark my words!