[m i a o w] the cat

We dropped my Dad off at the station yesterday, and, feeling slightly bereft, drove back into Maryborough to hunt down (among other things) the Cat-Uzi. As we pulled up outside a shop I had my head on M’s shoulder and my hand resting on his knee. The mood was ’sad romantic’ (as opposed to ‘new romantic’ and the terrible hairstyles that inevitably follow). I felt something small and solid hit my hand. I brought it up to have a look. For the first few seconds, it didn’t compute. A half centimetre wodge of uncertain texture. Then, in the instant that my eyes widened in horrified recognition, M swept the offending item from my hand and a huge blush started advancing up his neck. I had been hit by a a booger from his nose. The shock was great. His total humiliation was greater. If it had been our first date…the mind boggles. Ugh.