My FM came to visit today – she was down from Toowoomba with work – she had dropped people off at Outback Spectacular and then come to have lunch with the Mummies. I was at the door to greet her – of course. I thought about helping M Kaz with the hot beverages, but I thought it was safer if I didn’t – she can be a bit erratic in the kitchen sometimes. I think that’s why Aunty M let’s M Kaz makes tea for her when she comes over to watch television with them.
It’s important that those Mummies know who’s the boss around here – and that would be. M Kaz was talking about CULLING my boxes today – and she had the cheek to touch my new box – you know, the one with the packing inserts still in it – and I just marched right on over there and jumped in it. Hmm, come to think of it, that’s a bit like Mimi when Aunty M says she’s going to move her cat tower on. Why can’t they just leave our stuff alone?
And speaking of “our” – actually “my” stuff … oops, sorry, forgot what I was going to write there. M Kaz interrupted me … oh wait, there it is. It has to do with M Kaz, of course … why does she think that my bed is her bed? She’s just taking up more and more space these days (actually nights) and ever though I wait until she’s settled before I finally climb in, it doesn’t seem to help. Some nights I end up just clinging to the side of the bed so she doesn’t kick me off – she doesn’t mean to, of course, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Hmmm. I might get a decent night’s sleep at Aunty Rosemary’s in a minute. No, Mummies, this doesn’t mean l’m looking forward to it!
And just to clarify, the tissue box, by definition, is mine to do with as I choose. Eating the tissues is fair game!
Nigella ... 