Basically.

I was in Southend today, shopping. I went into the bank to pay in a cheque that I've been carrying around in my handbag for a week. I get to he paying in machine (hardly ever works anyway) rummage through my bag and then realise I haven't got work handbag with me. Arrgh. As I go to leave I see Little Dudes and big Dude (their Dad) sitting in the waiting area. Actually I didn't see them - they had to holler my name several times. The first thing I notice is that they are wearing matching sandals. I know Angela likes to dress the boys the same , but I didn't realise she was including her husband in that. Joe had a big tear across the knee of his jeans. I wasn't sure if that was on purpose and asked him. He cheerfully told me it was the mark of death. Mark of death? The Little Dudes are obsessed with all things horrific.
When I got home Steve and I had a row because I muttered "fecking basic"* under my breath. Now I'm having to endure him telling me stuff and then adding -"but I thought that would be fecking basic."** I'm getting my own back though. During the Robbo row he accused me of just pretending to love him so I'm calling him Pretend Husband. The Robbos are not sophisticated arguers.

* He hadn't put the door stop against the door, so it was in danger of slamming on Tommy. I said "You haven't used the door stop" and then muttered "fecking basic". Steve demanded to know what I had muttered (he didn't believe my answers of "nothing" "love you?")so I said very slowing "fecking basic" and it went nuclear after that. He is sooo touchy.

** Obviously we were using a different word.