All was well in my world; the kettle was gurgling, a pristine packet of choccy biccies nestled in my hand and the opening theme of 'Loose Women' wafted in from the sitting room where a comfortable chair awaited my ample bottom.
I left my bottom on the chair and went to rescue the kettle, it had fallen in the sink and was being held down by a gang of teaspoons.
‘the trouble with you lot’ I said as I upended the kettle ‘is you’re always stirring up trouble’ The biccies purred their agreement from my free hand.
‘And some use you lot are’ I told them ‘as soon as they start stirring, you go to pieces’. The purring stopped and the biccies took wing and settled on top of a magnolia scented cupboard. Peering over the top in disapproval.
‘You might well hide up there, I’ve seen the mess you’ve left in my bed. Jings, I’ll be finding bits of you for weeks in there.’ They turned their back on me and started preening.
As I left the kitchen having settled the kettle back down with a cosy to keep it company and a dishbrush for protection I noticed the barometer was falling.
Bad weather was on the way.
I went back to the lounge and stooped to pick a buttercup, sorry…to pick a buttock up first one then the other went into my running shorts which I’d caught earlier that day trying to head off with my jogging bottoms. The buttock weight would keep them there for a while. My training shoes however were trying to organise all the other footwear to attend a seminar. Suddenly an underground mineshaft collapsed, I looked round and just saw the kitchen sink, those damned teaspoons always causing trouble.
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