Speaking in Tongues

I never hear the polite, quiet little text alerts on my mobile. Particularly if it's buried deep in my handbag or in my pocket.

Bli Guinness originally provided me with The Butler, but if the phone is within earshot of colleagues, Mrs Duck Senior or the Little Ducks, I then have a mad scramble to cut him off before he offers to tell callers to F**k Off.

Not good.

But now I have R2D2* - alerting me to the arrival of new texts with a cacophony of clicks, whoops and whistles - long enough and piercing enough to be heard anywhere.

I love it and I love the reaction it provokes when my pocket suddenly erupts with noise in a public place.

Yummy Mummy and I were queuing in the Fish Bar in Benllech, when R2 piped up from my jeans.

I let him finish, then turned to the man next to me who looked puzzled.

'It's a text translator' - I offer, by way of explanation. 'It means you don't have to get your phone out to read texts. it reads them out to you.'

'That's cool' - says he nodding in approval.

I wait a few seconds to see if there is a whiff of irony about him, but all I can smell is salt, vinegar and gravy.

I continue - 'Of course, you have to be able to speak R2D2, to understand the message....'

More sage nodding, 'Oh, absolutely' - he says.

I wait a few more seconds for the wet fish of enlightenment to slap him about the face then give up, collect my freshly fried cod and head for the car, avoiding the tumbleweed blowing gently down the hill to the bay.

*Actually it's just a recording of a child's toy, but sounds uncannily like the famous little droid. Funnily enough when I was looking for an image of R2 for this post, the first image I selected came from this site. I have downloaded a translation of Picture of a Duck. Just trying to work out how to post it here.