Dear Twits

Dear Twits
My mother and father couldn’t speak a word of English when they migrated from Holland to Australia in 1951. It was enormous fun to hear them learn to speak English. There is something very attractive about people speaking in incorrect English. Like when Mum, bless her, got it into her head, somehow, that the word — Twit— was a term of endearment. Suddenly visitors were being greeted with, “Hello Twit.” “Is that you Twit?” Fare-welled with, “Bye-bye Twit.” Comforted with,” there-there Twit.”
I’ve come to love the word — Twit.