Wednesday, 4 September 2013

Back to Normal Chez MILF

Word cloud from Dreamstime
Now that school has started it is all back to normal chaos. Well ... apart from a bit of additional chaos provided for our entertainment by the Baron's pater familias: Outlaw Dad 

The morning starts with the agony of not being able to feed the Whore of Catylon. The Baron and Piglet have been admonished multiple times not to let her in the kitchen, as there is no way the many small piles of snack-y food-y yummy bits can be cleared completely from this den of gluttony. A new game is thus devised in which everyone shrieks gleefully when they let the cat in, then chase it and attempt to shut it out while staying in the kitchen themselves to eat their sausages. (Oh, poor Lakhi! so sorry. Chicken later, promise. Er, not that I buy and cook chicken especially for my cat - of course! 

The Baron actually asks if he can help in any way. Don't worry, he's fine, just stricken with guilt after I have had to cope with Outlaw Dad the last few days while also attempting to manage Piglet back into the loving arms of State Education. (That uniform may fit now but it will not fit in four months' time, believe me. I will take it back and swap it for you, please just leave it in the bag). Oh, and I was still working too. Yah yah, and doing the laundry, of course . 

I am making a packed lunch for Piglet. (I no longer do packed lunch for the Baron, which is another story - and a bit sad, but there we are. It is his own fault of course .) 

The Cat takes her revenge on us by doing an enormous poo in the hall. The Baron steps in it on his way out the door to his conference in some far-flung Eastern European city. The Piglet runs to and fro the hallway now tastefully spattered with poo-prints in spite of strict instructions not to, and has to be sent to wash her trotters. The Baron takes his revenge by going up the stairs and leaving a little poo in the stair carpet for me to clean up later. 


Give me foo-ood!
After washing down the hall floor, we get to choose between catching the cats early and making them sit in the pet carrier looking plaintive, or running round after them and getting scratched and stressed up, screeching: "We are going to be late!" Piglet finds an exciting new version of this game by catching the cats so early that they have to be let out again and so when we come to catch them they are stressed up and ready to explode and it is even harder to get them in the pet carrier. 

I am still early at the vet's, so I can sit there knitting for a moment. Ahhhh. 

"It's very peaceful today," the vet says, looking behind me for the usual troupe of chatty children (most of them not mine), nephew with special needs, additional extra kittens, circus clowns, jugglers and admiring builders. 

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