Sad spectacle, that of a cold, stiff tit early in the morning.
Couldn’t stop wondering if a granite headstone isn’t just a touch extravagant for a blue tit though.
As usual, I had mixed feelings this morning when I found out that our stowaway pet had seen an abrupt end to its cruise on the LÉ Mememe2U.
On the one hand, I cannot help but feel sorry for the little bugger. And there was much protesting from Mimi, who tried really really hard to make a case for the cute little rodent (“but Papa, it’s only trying to make a living, it’s only living off crumbs and little bits of food, it’s not bothering us at all”). And I totally see her point. It is a cute little creature, healthy, with a shiny coat, and shiny jet black eyes, and lovely little whiskers.
On the other hand, there is one word that does not have echoes of cuteness for me: infestation. And there is such a thing as an overdose of cuteness. When the cuteness reproduces at an alarming rate.
So farewell, cute little rodent. I know that the end was quick. Those mouse traps are terribly effective at achieving what they were designed to do. What a timeless, classic design too.
You had the choice between the cheese and the chocolate. Your sweet tooth was your Achilles’ heel.
You also helped me to reinforce a point to Mimi, the great defender of small cute rodents (she bought you at least three extra weeks of careless crumbs hoovering chez mememe2U): chocolate ain’t good for you.
Not easy, the life of the rebel skater’s dog, three hours after his master’s arrest.
Jayzus… 10 years already since that little fist punched the air, out of the C section, prompting the obstetrician to ask you to take it easy.
How incredibly aware of your environment you’ve been from an early age.
You looked so serious for the first couple of months, taking in the world around you with your big saucer eyes, and that little frown that said that you were reserving your judgment until later, after you had gathered more information.
You’ve grown a lot since. I know what you are thinking, but don’t worry about the height. It’s just centimeters. Your growth is measured in other units, and it is tremendous.
You are so in tune with the world around you that it is I, big bozo, who learns from you.
You show tremendous maturity when it comes to relationship intelligence.
Especially if we use your brothers for bench-marking purposes…
I am so delighted your enjoyed your birthday.
Enjoy your first watch. And your first real writer’s pen (no, it doesn’t run out, you just pop in a new cartridge!) And your Game of Life and Monopoly with credit cards (sort of annihilates what was truly fun about Monopoly, the dipping in the bank while the others were not watching…)
Mum and Dad, and Pepe and Nana, and the bros love you very much.
There is only one Mimi.
And you are she.
Not a great Monday morning.
For me, when I sneaked a quick peek at my inbox (what was I thinking?!)
For Gully the gull, with the eyes wider than the beak, upon realising that the plaice that he had nicked from the trawler would be of little use to him.
For the misplaced plaice. So close from the sea (50 meters at the most).
Yet so far.