Bloorp.

Not everyone can use the phrase “Sometimes I’m so ESL” to excuse some of the regrettable words that escape your lips.

But my friend Rene can. He began his story with that very phrase, mentioning that he was at a bakery with a friend who was scoping out the array of cakes on display.

Rene piped up, “Why are you looking at cakes, you heifer?”

His friend, shocked, said, “Rene! Are you trying to tell me that I’m fat?”

“No,” he replied, genuinely not knowing that heifer was another word for cow because French is his first language. “I wanted to call you a slut.”

Under any other normal circumstance, I’d agree that the term “feisty turtle” is an odd pairing of words.

But I can’t agree. I’ve looked after my neighbour’s turtle Harold (Harold!) on three separate occasions now and I think that has earned me the prestigious title of Turtle-Sitter Who Can Assign Adjectives To Local Reptiles Under Her Temporary Care, along with Observer of Curious Turtle Behaviour.

One night after feeding Harold, I decided to sit and watch for a while. I’d never actually watched turtles for an extended period of time — unlike most of the general population, obviously.

For one thing: Harold yawned and let me tell you, you really haven’t lived until you’ve seen a turtle yawn.

Imagine a turtle having just been woken from his hibernation. He’s been dug out from his underground haven with fresh soil still spattered across his shell and he’s slowly turning his head side-to-side, as if trying to make sense of his surroundings in his sleepy haze.

Then picture him raising his front foot to his mouth and yawning.

But that wasn’t the end.

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