I’m Gibbs

No wonder I love NCIS. OK, a very understated Gibbs that gets to the root of a problem and solves it. No military haircut, no oo-rah.

There’s a bit of McGeek in me with cooking. No Ziva but I’d have her as a big sister any day, she would have prevented my hat from being taken and shredded in half by the Ferry boys on a half bus used in the countryside where we lived and was called the “retard bus.”

My friends, the dairymen’s kids made sure the Ferry boys would never harm me again. I never knew how they did that. That was Ziva and Abby. Her real name is Ruth and Abby found the hat and helped me with the principal and with forensics and photo identification. The principal thought her boots were strange.

Ducky is my friend from Glasgow where we lived for a while (really). I never knew his mother or the Corgis. Tony was insistent on gaining my daughter’s attentions but I knew better. The autopsy gremlin was a better match. If Tony’s to commit to anything it must be Ziva.

Of course absent is the Director, no the LA Director Hetty, sorry Rocky from ER, I love you but this is fiction. Some story.

Truth is that I had to tell three happy ending stories to a blind dog last night outside his new door to get him to settle down on a move across the way. It’s good to have our old neighbors back and to make up stories.

Let’s play NCIS! Hetty, your tea is ready. Please bring your cup and saucer. Dee