On the first day of christmas, my true love said to me..." a partridge in a pear tree. "
Err...okay...thank you dear.

On the second day of christmas, my true love said to me...." two turtle doves. "
Yep, um....I don't actually know what you're talking about...but again, thanks anyway. And you said about the partridge yesterday, didn't need to say it again.

On the third day of christmas, my true love said to me..." three french hens. "
Darling, what's gotten into you? This is the third day running you've come up to me and spouted complete and utter meaningless drivel at me. And why do you then repeat the things you came out with the previous days? I heard you sweetheart, I heard you!

On the fourth day of christmas, my true love said to me.... " four- "
Go away, I'm reading the paper.

On the fifth day of christmas, my true love said to me.... " five golden rings. "
Oh I see, I get it. This is what it's all been leading up to. You thought that by coming out with all this garbled nonsense day after day, you could slip in a subliminal request for me to buy you something nice. Either that or you're hoping I'd do it just to shut you up! Well it ain't happening I'm afraid, I can't afford one gold ring, let alone five of the bastards.

On the sixth day of christmas, my true love said to me.... " six geese a laying. "
Listen, I still do not know WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT! Six geese are laying?! I mean, what is that? What does it mean? Are you a KGB agent or something, is that it? Have you been married to me for five years just waiting for the order from Moscow to say these daft lines, and then I'm supposed to produce a briefcase containing secret papers? You've got the wrong guy, believe me.

On the seventh day of christmas, my true love said to me.... " seven swans a swimming. "
Look, seriously love, I've just about had enough of this now. A whole week of these glib remarks! I just want to sit here in peace and watch ' The Great Escape ', okay?...And Swans don't swim darling, they paddle. When did you ever see a Swan pipping Mark Spitz to the gold in a 200 metre breast-stroke.

On the eighth day of christmas my true love said to me.... " eight maids- "
Ok that's it, I'm going down the pub!
Give me a call when you think you might be feeling better and have stopped foaming at the mouth and stopped going on about pheasants in apple trees!

On the ninth day of christmas, my true love called me up on the Nokia and said to me.... " nine- "
Aaaargghhh!!!