This morning I was hunched over the kitchen bench, aware I was running late and madly shovelling baked beans on toast into my slavering gob.
Violet Crumbleruff was semi-conscious on a chair, belly up to the sky, legs splayed wantonly and a sliver of drool sliding down her cheek.
Grumpy walked in, surveyed the scene with pride and satisfaction, and said, "Look at that. My two lovely ladies."
1 comment:
Oh, what a picture you paint with your words, Hazel.
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