There I was doing the shopping Saturday morning, when I spotted Aldi had tubs of Playdoh for ā¬1 each. What a hero Iāll be when I arrive home with these I says to myself. Arrived home, triumphantly presenting them to a delighted 3 year old.
An hour later, thereās playdoh in her hair, her clothes and all over the couch. My wife sat on a lump of it ruining her jeans, the 1 year old decided to eat a bit of it and there was general mayhem. Of course then there was roaring and balling from the little one as I was told to get rid of it.
I was half tempted to get them the last day we were in there as the lads love the stuff. With Mrs OTS being 8 months pregnant, it could have gotten nasty if we had a similar outcome, which lets face it, is entirely probable with toddlers
Iāve never liked cats, horrible fuckers everyone of them Iāve ever encountered. So last Saturday morning when I opened the front door here was a kitten, Iād say a couple of months old, sitting looking up at me. After failing to scatter the thing out comes the 4 year old and immediately and unconditionally fell in love with the fur ball. Bowls were bought, new cat beds bought, blankets for the cat, you name it herself went and got it. After failing to find an owner, the cat became part of the family until Thursday when the kitten disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Trauma the likes of which youād associate with a multiple fatality road accident ensued for 3 days until I broke yesterday afternoon. After spotting āfree to a good homeā ad I set off for Clonmel and collected the spitting stamp of the now missing donut. What joy I was about to bring back into the home once more, what a hero Iāll be when I announce that Iāve found donut and brought him home again. Iād be dining out on the brownie points for months.
In I arrive with the duplicate donut in a cardboard box to be met with the original, no longer missing donut, back from his travels and he happy out with himself.
A good cat is great to have around the place but make no bones about it they are duplicitous bastards. All the cunts care about is what they can get from you. If mrs Murphy up the road starts leaving out Whiskas while your feeding them some cheap tin from Aldi theyāll be gone. Youād find more loyalty in an EPL soccer player.
She was in the middle of the greatest celebration since our first child was born, so no she never thought it would be a good idea to tip me off. Anyway she didnāt know where I was gone, it was going to be a proper surprise
Itās brilliant the way the truth rings from it. A smashing post and a great little story. The likes of @Brimmer_Bradleyās made up adventures would never come close.