Well, last night was something of a Rubicon for us – leaving Miss Kitty Fish to look after the house all night. She Who Must Be Fed Gin And Tonic Till She’s All Giggly was out with her mates Laura and Christine (Christine's bought about a million copies of my book to give away as presents – what a NICE lady) an eating and a drinking until the wee small hours. As it’s about an hour from the centre of town to Casa MacBride, we decided to accept the kind offer of a bed for the night from the parents. So Fiona goes out on the toot, I have a sort of pizza thing from Asda (I know, not exactly a culinary highpoint, but their collection of meat was... well, let's just say that there’s more appetising mouse biltong curing on the concrete patio outside our kitchen door) and Kitten had the house all to herself.
Of course we had to make her promise not to make any long-distance calls, or watch anything with ‘Adult Themes’ or ‘Sexual Swearwords’ on the telly. Last thing we want is to come home to find she’s been on the phone to ‘Sexy Tomcats – They’ll Make You Purrrrrr!’ in the Maldives the whole night.
And when we came back there was no sign of ‘Kitties Revenge’ in retaliation to being left alone all night – i.e. little bowel or bladder derived presents – or at least we haven’t found them yet. I’m checking my shoes before I put them on though.
Treading in a half-mouse is bad enough.