last night I had a visit from XCH and Smallest Person; she was distraught - more than distraught
he was fairly upset too, it has to be said
just before leaving the house, she had trodden on a kitten and broken its neck and it spasmed all the way down the stairs and when it reached the bottom it threw up the contents of its guts all over the floor. . .
(I didn't ask how much blood spilled on the new stair carpet, or why XCH had left two teenage boys to "clean up" the mess on the stairs, as he was quite distraught as already mentioned)
a hot chocolate and some Maltesers managed to quell some of the flood of tears, but not all and not for long. . .
we had a conversation about why kittens come in litters of five (in this case) and she hadn't done it on purpose. . .
she still went home sobbing
a rather dishevelled man just came up to me in the garden and asked if he could have a fag, which I duly passed over
he then stood in front of me, with his hand in his pocket and uttered the following words:
"you're very beautiful"
"I'd like to m*ke l*ve to you"
"I'd like to f*ck you"
"I'd like to s*ck your n*pples"
"I'd like to c*me all over your f*ce"
the famous footballer, who was having a fag on a bench on the other side of the garden, whistled at me to catch my attention and twirled his fingers around near his forehead in a "he's mad" kind of way. . .
I think if Dishevelled Man hadn't chosen that moment to wander off and watch some ladies performing yoga on the lawn, Famous Footballer might have come over and whopped him one on my behalf