Years ago, when I was about 8 and my brother 10, we used to, before bedtime, fight over who was to get the cat to keep their feet warm.
Checkers was the cat's name - a lovely cuddly little black and white number.
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| Not Checkers but similar |
Terry and I would try to grab Checkers to take her off to bed. This usually ended in a scarp that Mum had to sort out.
Eventually we resorted to hiding Checkers earlier and earlier each evening in hideaways around the house. It used to become a hide and seek game with poor old Checkers being: hidden at the back of the hot water cupboard covered in towels; put in a clothes drawer; stuffed at the top of a wardrobe; put in a carton and pushed under a bed - you get the idea.
This went on for ages until - you guessed it - Mum intervened and then taking the cat to bed was forbidden.
4 comments:
Is this the post I waited for?
At least you didn't tell the cat off shouting how superior you are because of an honours degree.
"At least you didn't tell the cat off shouting how superior you are because of an honours degree."
That was obviously directed at you Richard.
Robert doesn't love you anymore either. Has he given up being a christian?
Robert may not love me and he may think I'm going to hell but I have an Honours Degree in Classical Music.
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