The awful truth of the matter is that, in spite of Keith's ticking off the minutes since stupid o'clock this morning, in eager anticipation of an early visit from
Santa Claus the Sky man, as yet, no human being has approached our doorstep, except for the two deliveries of lovely Mother's Day flowers, sent by Elder and Younger Daughter, which only served to compound his agony. The 'window' for installation was between 8am and 2pm and regrettably, the unfortunate employee of Sky has, as yet, failed to appear. He has 25 minutes before Keith instantaneously combusts.
Does he appreciate, I wonder, the scene of distraught hand-wringing and groaning in the living room chez Jennyta?
Does he understand that he is taking his life in his hands with ever-increasingly disastrous consequences when he does eventually appear?