Today when S-J - (my cleaner-cum-adopted granddaughter) - was here, I mentioned that I had a boiler service booked for the afternoon. "Let's hope they send you a hunk" she said. "Fat chance" I replied, "they only send the older, world-weary ones". So when to my surprise a presentable young man turned up, I let him in to my garage, then went back into the house to tell S-J that they'd sent me a hunk after all.
She grumbled that by not letting him through the house, I hadn't given her a chance to see him, and I opened up a connecting door so she could give him a sly once-over while he worked. "I'll soon tell you if he's a minger" she said. He was neat and presentable - and polite and helpful as it turned out - but she declared him not worthy of our attention. From there the conversation became too personal to be repeatable here.
I think it was Sheila who started it all when I stayed with her and Steve in August. I got confused between a Game Boy and a Play Station, and referred to a "PlayBoy". Sheila accused me of having my mind on toyboys, and from there we moved on to speculate with much giggling on the possibility of designing a "Catch the toyboy" computer game especially for the mature woman.
Word must have got out in our on-line discussion group, as not long after Keiwit referred to me as "our 77-year-old sexpot" - me! Later, when I was asking about what I should wear for Sheila's Surprise Birthday Party, I said that it was not a question of hiring something posh, but rather of impulse buys hanging unused in the cupboard. Keith D, who likes to play the neologism game*, came back quick as a flash with:
"Impulse boys - things Judith picks up while shopping. I trust they're well hung, madam!"
I must admit though, I do play up to this richly undeserved reputation I have acquired.
* where you change, add or delete one letter in a familiar word and invent a new meaning for it.