Said I tonight at work, “The kittens are living behind my wheelie bin.”
My assistant manager looked at me. “Your ‘wheelie bin’?”
“You know,” I said, “my wheelie bin.”
“The garbage can I push out to the street every week?”
“So, your garbage can.”
“Right. My wheelie bin.”
And then I realized that, like Sherlock Holmes, my font of English has been permanently defiled. In Holmes’ case, it was Americanisms creeping into his speech. In my case, it’s Britishisms creeping in.