Story roundup
Monday, January 31st, 2011 9:37 pm by Damian | Uncategorized
Right, I’ve had little scrawled notes on my desk for a very long time now, so I’ll assemble them into a little tasting tray of madness. Let’s see how far we get.
”Mummy, I just saw a bird in the sky!”
”OK".”
“He was doing an experiment! A bird experiment!”
“Really? What’s a bird experiment, Zach?”
“Well, it looked like he fell out of the sky, but he was doing an experiment! He flapped, but then he stopped flapping, but then he was soaring, but then he started flapping again to start going again!”
“Oh.”
Samantha (although weaned now) has decided that the milk-giving mounds are called ‘bosuns’. Granny was teasing her about that word when Zach piped up and declared that “Granny doesn’t have bosuns. Her has pimples.”
”Good lord, she’s being an unpleasant little cow,” Sarah fumed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was having an unpleasant period.”
”Now, Mummy, you need to open your legs.”
“Why is that, Doctor Zachary?”
“I need to get a poo sample from you. I’m a poo doctor.”
Transporting the cat to the vet is a deeply unpleasant experience for all concerned. He scratches and yowls and bangs and thumps and carries on like you would not believe. Unless you have cats, I suppose, in which case you would believe it all too well. This is all compounded by the cage we have for him; the door comes off if you give it any sort of light pressure. The last time I drove home with him, he speared me in the back of the neck from the back seat, which just about led to an insurance claim.
Anyway, after one too many swipes at my arm, I told him that on the way home from the vet’s, he was going to travel in the boot. Samantha, it would appear, is a true Kiwi chick. She grinned at me and said “in the boot, ay? In the boot. Naughty Thrall.”
”Daddy, you’re driving badly. You shouldn’t crash into the other racers. That’s naughty. The police will come and get you.”
“I don’t think they have police on racetracks, Zach.”
“Yes they do. The racing police.”
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