When I wake up

Monday October 30, 2006

Picture it. One over-worked and exhausted bar manager. One under-worked but slightly over-stressed elderly poet. Finally, one extremely large cat who reckons the only suitable work for a respectable feline is the big yawn between naps.

So. What do you think we did today? Right! We slept.

Somewhere around noon Graham came downstair to find me dozing in my big sumptuous chair where I’d been keeping quiet so as not to disturb him.

“Is it lunch time yet?” he asked

“Can’t be. I’m still in my pyjamas.”

“So am I. What’s that got to do with anything? Is it lunch time yet?”

“Can’t argue with that. You’ll have to give me ten minutes for a quick wash and brush up, though. There’s no way I’m going to do lunch, not even a sandwich lunch, when I’m still in my pyjamas.”

“What kind of sandwiches?”

“Your favourite. Salt beef and gherkins.”

“Ah. Ok, that’s worth waiting an extra ten minutes. Off you go, then.”

So, we had lunch, and then went off for a well-earned afternoon nap.

“Do you know what?” I asked.

“No. What?”

“I don’t think Dolly stirred once while you were up and about.”

“I shall give her a good poke for that.”

“When?”

“Oh, when I wake up.”

 

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