Patricia Comb
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THERE BE DRAGONS

12/11/2016

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Once upon a time, long long ago, a woman married a man and this man had a friend who had a wife whom he called ‘The Dragon’. Every proposed social meet-up, every decision to be taken, every appointment was always back-heeled - ‘I’ll ask The Dragon.’
​

Now, the first man, who for the sake of argument we will call spouse, was very much impressed with the notion of ‘Dragonhood’ and complimented his friend on his descriptive powers.
  ‘Why aye man,’ quoth the friend, for he was a native of the North-East of England, ‘why aye, and she lives up to her name I can tell you. You divvent want to cross her, she might incinerate you, bonny lad.’
Spouse decided his young wife should be named ‘Trainee Dragon’ as her years and lack of experience befitted her for the junior post.
So, the years went by and the young wife and her swain lived in harmony together. Except … spouse would still call his lovely wife the ‘Trainee Dragon.’ This was a mistake, as for some long time the ‘Trainee’ had matured into a fully-fledged Yorkshire dragon, possibly an even more fearsome species than her North-Eastern mentor, only spouse did not notice.
Like his friend had, years before, he continually referred to ‘asking The Dragon’ … ‘I’ll check that with The Dragon’... ‘See what The Dragon thinks.’ There were jokes a-plenty at her expense.  ‘We don’t need an oven, my wife just breathes on our food’ … ‘Snow never lasts on our drive, The Dragon breathes on it’ … ‘I save a fortune on central heating, she sits in the corner like a little flame-thrower.’
But the spouse could only push at this cave door for so long. Remember, a Yorkshire dragon lived within. And one day, which happened to be their wedding anniversary and spouse fondly recalled the birth of the ‘Trainee Dragon’, something snapped inside the the Yorkshire dragon. She reared up in all her fearsome glory, eyes blazing and flames of orange fire shooting from her mouth. In a moment spouse was gone ... ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
It’s a pity he only heeded the first part of his friend’s tale of ‘The Dragon’ and forgot about ‘she might incinerate you, bonny lad.’
​

A cautionary tale indeed. Never forget … there be dragons.
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