** my Lord = судья **
Well, my lord, up until then it was ordinary day, really. Far as I remember, my lord, I got up, same as usual, made tea, woke children, got dressed, got Fred out of bed, cooked Fred’s breakfast, made his sandwiches, wrapped them up, said goodbye, fed children, took them to school, washed dishes, swept floor, made beds, fed toucan, called plumber, ran for bus, collected Kate, scrambled eggs, made toast, scoffed lot, washed dishes, baked cake, collected Tom, dried dishes, made tea, played with kids, fed cat, made supper, ran bath, washed dishes, bathed kids, read them story, got them to bed, dried dishes, and then Fred and I sat down and put our feet up in front of telly and poured ourselves nice couple of pints of Guinness.
Oh, lovely it was, my lord. And Fred took long drink of his Guinness and turned to me and said, “You don’t know how lucky you are”, he said, “not having to work”.
And that’s when I shot him.
