Monty jumped on me at five forty five a.m.
"Fish" he whispered as his mighty cat mouth delicately removed my earlobes.
"Whatever you say Mont" I half grinned "You're the boss".
So as I slapped on my glasses and slipped into my slippers I felt nothing but love for my half ton, fat tummed, angel chops :)
After obeying him I stood in the shower and started thinking about other things.
Things like:
Sausages. Toad-in-the-hole for tea
Prescriptions. I remember when they were twenty pence.
Spots. I'm not sixteen no more yeah, just go away !
Insect Bites. Buggers.
Heavy duty poetry. But not about the war.
Ankles. Getting bigger?
Growing my hair. Want to be wild again.
Morgan Freeman. Get well soon you wonderful actor you.
Coco Pops or Porridge for brekkie? Pops are fun Podge is worthy.
Trousers or skirt? Depends what zip I can do up easily
And as I gently scrubbed off yesterdays dirt with a big old purple brush I looked down and screamed out
"What's that?!!!"
Old age is horrid.
Monty was waiting and listening outside the bathroom and as I stepped over him he rugby tackled me.
Coco Pops.
