[m i a o w] the cat

B: When you got your swimmers off the clothesline, you got mine too, right?
M: Ummmmm….
B: (pleadingly) Right?
M: Well, nooooo. I just got mine off the line.
B: But mine were there too. We’re going swimming. Why didn’t you just grab mine as well?
M: [deep breath - male logic approaching] I didn’t see your swimmers. I don’t know about your swimmers. There seems to be so many different bits and pieces that you wear swimming, I wouldn’t have even known what to look for. I mean [he gets more animated] sometimes there’s bits with strings, and sometimes there’s those little shorts, and sometimes the ones that look kind of like undies [he gets scorched by a glare] - well sort of like undies, and so I…
B: There are two words for you.
M: And they would be?
B: The first one is INEPT and the second one is BUMBLING. Forget it. I’ll swim in my shorts.

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[…] A few times on these pages I have paid out on M for being a sookylala who has to take his pillow with him wherever he goes. Tonight he was reading came across one of these instances and confided that when he left home at the age of 17, he cut his favourite pillow in half so half of it could fit into his backpack. I, on the other hand, was brought up in a the harsh world of a British father who instructed us to roll up a jumper and deal with it. So M knows who to blame when I mock him. Ha! And speaking of all things pillow, I too have something pillowish to tell… […]

Pillow talk « [m i a o w] the cat typed this on Oct 07 06 at 12:10 am

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