23rd April 2018
Established 1872. Online since 1996.

Tochts fae Tushie Truncherfaece

A faersome feerie

Wir been grippit by a terrible feerie dis mont, da laek o wir niver kent. First da bairns fell ill, den me an Meenie. A’m niver felt dis pr aamos afore.

Dis is da time o year for trowie illness. We croog undergroond tae bide oot o dis endless sunlicht. Wi nae fresh air A’m run doon an fairly pooskered daein naethin ava.

Snurtysleeves startit wi hit. He wis haet an caald, his troat wis red raa an, of coorse, he hed a snurty nose. Wan by wan da bairns drappit doon wi da sam feerie. Dey lay in dir box beds laek weet cloots. Da noise o aa fower o dem hostin an crexin wis enoch tae drive me mad.

Meenie waited on dem hand an fit. She med dem drink plenty an spooned dem honey.  She even sent me oot tae gadder hill berries in da darkenin.

“Awa du goes an dunna come back til yon pell is foo. Da bairns need aa da vitamin C dey can git,” she instructed me.

Den when I wis awa things took a turn for da worse. “Maam, I need da pell, A’m feelin seeck…” oobed Uggledlugs leanin oot o his boxbed.

Of coorse, I wis furt wi da pell, so Uggledlugs emptied himself on da flr! For a mercy we joost hae an earthen flr. Although a grain o oilcloth or laminate widna geng amiss.

So I cam hom tae Meenie on her hookers wi a swaab. An naebody felt laek aetin a hill berry.

Noo, if da bairns ill wisna bad enoch, me an Meenie wir smitten an aa. Hit wis terrible.  My troat sweed laek some een wis taen a tattie paerer tae hit. Ee meenit I wis boilin haet, da nixt I wis as caald as can be. I could hardly lift my head, I wis done. Meenie wis a pr crachtless craetir an aa. We joost hed tae baffel on da best we could.

Den, da inevitable happened. Meenie kept remindin me tae drink plenty, so my belly wis swinklin. Suddenly I doobled ower twafaald wi grips. Thankfully da pell wis handy dis time. Meenie widna hiv thanked me if it wis on da flr agaen.

“A’m hed enoch o dis,” I telt Meenie. “Nae herbal remedy will shift dis feerie. Du needna budder wi dee honey an hill berries, wir needin a dose o medicine fae a doctor.”

Meenie wis taen aback.

“Tushie, du’s niver been tae a doctor in dy life,” she said.

“Weel, dir’s a first time for aathing,” I telt her.

So dat’s hoo I ended up oagin alang tae veesit Dr. Kunal.

Noo, da Kunal breed o trows ir unusual. Dey ir weel kent for bein unsociable. Dey tend tae bide on dir ain an mairry a human wife. Wance a Kunal son is boarn da midder dees and da faider shun eftir. So I hed my doots aboot Dr. Kunal’s social skills. But surely he wid ken hoo tae mak me better.

His undergroond surgery wis crubbit an ill lit. Dr. Kunal wis croogit ower a desk. He pushed peerie glesses up ower his skave nose. He wis ill laek wi lirkit skin an slitty een.

“Whit can I dae for you?” he axed athoot makin eye contact.

“A’m been afo ill,” I telt him. “My troat is laek sand paeper, A’m haet an caald an dirs a weight daddin in my head. Feth, A’m even spewed!  Can du gie me some medicine?”

Dr. Kunal lookit me straight in da een.

“You hae a virus, Mr. Truncherfaece. Gargle wi saat waater an get plenty o rest.  Hit’ll joost run hit’s coorse.”

“Surely du can gie me something? I canna pit up wi dis ony langer!”

“You hae nae option, Mr. Truncherfaece. But I can recommend a wye tae avoid bein smitten agaen,” he said wi irritation.

“I wid be blyde o dat, Dr. Kunal.”

“Follow da Kunal trow example an lead a solitary life. You needa lippen onything idder as bein smitten wi bruck when you hae a howe foo o bairns,” he said wi venom.

“Da steer o da bairns is lightsome,” I telt him. “Even if dey tak hom da odd feerie.”

Surely A’ll be better nixt mont…

Tushie Truncherfaece x