Big Sis': Oh, thank God you're in! You must stop eating that cod.
(This being only ten of the morning, I'm not exactly tucking into a plate of steaming cod as we speak. I'm happy enough to assure her there's absolutely no cod eating activity going on at my end, whatsoever.)
She: I've just come off the phone from Tesco's. Did you know they're bottom feeders?
Me (confused): Och, some one's been winding you up, 'sides, why would you care what they do in their private time?
She: No, stupid, not them at Tesco's, I'm talking about the cod! I've just been unloading my shop - the cod was all covered in these squirmy white maggotie things, ugh, disgusting, it was..
Me: Euwwwwwwwwww. oh, that's not right.
She: No, it's not, that's what I said. I rang the store and spoke to the guy there, told him it was rancid.
Me: He gave you a credit, I hope?
She: Will you just shoosh up and listen - ?
(She's always been bossy.)
She: He asked me if the fish was cod. Told me there was nothing wrong with it. Said ALL are prone to parasites, on account of them being bottom feeders. Said they die off when it gets frozen, and are safe and well enough to eat when cooked. It's only when you buy fresh they wriggle about, but it's still all normal and legal for it to be sold to the likes of us.
Me: I hope you chucked it out?
She: I don't eat fish.
Me: Why did you buy it?
She: It's for Hugh.
Me: Oh.
She: Yeah. I won't tell him.
Me: No.
She: It'll spoil his appetite.
Me: Yeah.
She: But you should lay off the cod.
Me: Okay.