Last night, Friends, they all went out for a meal to celebrate Lad’s exam results. I think they went to Express Pizza as that’s where they normally go, being creatures of habit plus Young Lad has a passion for the Chocolate Fudge Cake with cream. I know for a fact that as this was a special occasion, they were allowed a dessert EACH rather than sharing a small wedge of New York cheesecake between three people, and Lad pushed the boat out by having Jalapenos on his American Hot.
Well. As they didn’t take me with them, I decided to have a celebratory meal all of my own while they were out. Oh, they had shut the bathroom door and the kitchen door all right, and thought they had covered all bases but no, Friends, they hadn’t. In the front porch – where it had been for several days in the normal slovenly way – was my new box of food. I ripped through the cardboard and yanked out the huge bag; this took very little tearing before I was well and truly in.
Friends, in order to celebrate Lad’s exam results properly, I ate five or six meals’ worth of food. It was nice.
My stomach was rather swollen and I was extremely thirsty, and of course they all shouted at me when they got in because of the mess. Look I was simply too full to start tidying up the ripped up cardboard that was covering the hall floor. She said the usual silly “WHO did this?” as if anyone else was going to own up. For goodness’s sake. I ran out in the garden and had the longest wee possible while they cleared up and carried on moaning.
Readers, I didn’t have a very good night after that. My stomach was so swollen that I needed to expel a LOT of air all night long, and it was quite pungent. Plus I needed a comfort break at 2am, and there was quite a lot of it, and a further comfort break at 6am, and there was a lot of it again. I’m sorry to be blunt, but those six meals I’d eaten in one go had to be digested somehow. Anyway, as I’d woken people up twice in the night, I was grumbled at even more. There was a right tetchy mood in the house this morning. Apart from Lad, bless his cotton socks, who stayed happily asleep until lunchtime having had a couple of late nights recently.
Now I know you’ve been wondering whether Lad had a good time at the Exam Result Party, and I’m happy to report that he did. I don’t think anyone went to bed at a sensible time and I’m not sure they were drinking Fanta all evening, which is rather disappointing but there you go. In fact as I write, Lad is at Exam Result Party #2 and I gather there is a #3 on Monday night. To be honest I feel this is overdoing things and is rather excessive, but Lad knows best. What does make me laugh, Readers, is that Lad managed to get a Top Grade in English Literature, and Regular Readers will remember that Lad didn’t actually read the books as they were all “rubbish.” That’s Mary Shelley, Shakespeare and R.C Sherriff dismissed in one fell swoop.
Young Lad has been very happy recently, as he has been treated to toast at Costalotta for three days on the trot. Today’s visit was out of necessity as there was no bread in the house for breakfast, and it didn’t seem to dawn on anyone to go up the road and buy a loaf. This is a sad state of affairs. Young Lad was extremely pleased with the solution to this problem and, combined with the chocolate fudge cake at Express Pizza last night, he has had a right result lately. Nobody takes me out for toast at Costalotta.
Today was fairly pleasant, after all the telling off about the disturbed night, and I had a lovely long walk at the river in beautiful sunshine. We met dear Lexie who as usual had half a forest dangling from her mouth, and I laughed as she whacked people round the back of the legs with it. I did need yet another comfort break right up in Top Field and again, the quantity and texture were quite unusual, so there was more carping on about my digestive system.
Lordy, did it rain this afternoon. Out of nowhere there was a huge clap of thunder and down it poured. I had no choice but to hunker down further in my chair and go to sleep. Quite incredibly, though, once it stopped raining I was dragged out for a second walk round the rec, to make up for the excessive eating. I objected strongly to this, as I really didn’t feel another walk was necessary. Nobody listens.
Readers, I have ordered a copy of my book to send to Meghan Markle. I feel it’s important that she reads about me and knows the situation. I’m not completely sure of her address but I’m sure Meghan Markle, Nottingham Cottage, South Ken, will suffice. There can’t be many Meghan Markles in South Ken. Once she reads about me, I am quite sure she will be in touch to invite me over, to stay with Guy her rescue Beagle. The only thing is, I gather she has recently taken on a rescue labrador as well. This is a little vexing as I’m not sure how well I’ll get on with it. Oh well. My needs would take priority, I feel. I will let you know when I’ve sent the book, and when I receive my invitation, which I know for a fact will be quite soon after My Winter Of Discontent plops onto HRH’s doormat.
I am absolutely starving tonight, Friends, as I have been denied any meals since last night. We all know that those six celebratory meals have gone right through my system and there is no need to put me on reduced rations. This is Neglect, Readers. Pure and simple.
Golly I’m tired tonight. It is still quite smelly in here, I’ll admit, but I’m not convinced the smells are all down to me. They’re very quick to blame me for sulphuric emissions here.
Bye for now,