Blame it on the cat
April 28th 2011 21:00
I still haven’t seen my boys. Not a day goes by without me thinking about them.
This morning, I lay in bed reminiscing about them. I remember one night Brett had gotten up from the Chesterfield lounge to go to the bathroom. He came back a few minutes later and I noticed something whiffy in the air.
“It was the cat,” said Brett, reading my mind.
“Get out of here!” I said. I had been watching the cats all night and they were nowhere near the bathroom. And besides, I have smelt their offerings and while they do pong, the odour is nowhere near as strong as what I had just smelt.
“It was you!” I said to Brett.
Brett kept denying it and who can blame him?
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