Since I'll be busily tiling and mowing and cleaning and dining this weekend with rellos, I thought you'd enjoy this:
A man in Scotland calls his son in London the day before Christmas Eve and says, "I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your Mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough."
"Dad, what are you talking about?" The son yells.
"We can't stand the sight of each other any longer." The father says. "We're sick of each other, and I'm sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Leeds and tell her."
Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone. "Like hell they're getting divorced," she shouts, "I'll take care of this."
She calls Scotland immediately, and yells at her father: "You are NOT getting divorced. Don't do a single thing until I get there. I'm calling my brother back, and we'll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don't do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?" and hangs up.
The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. "Okay," he says, "they're both coming for Christmas and they're paying their own way."
Oh, and just fyi, some of my ancestors came from Scotland. Have a good weekend!