I hadn't realised quite how much I enjoyed my freedom until I moved back in with Father and Auntie Barb, I really hadn't. Take for example, their respective Sunday morning routines:
Father:
6:50am - Wakes, descends the stairs; makes up of tea in the kitchen whilst singing the 1980 Split Enz hit I Got You.
7:30 - Bathes whilst listening to The Archers ominbus podcast amped up to sound level eleven.
8:30 - Empties a can of All Day Breakfast into a saucepan, heats, tips onto a plate - consumes.
9:13 - 12:00 - Peruses earthworm websites on his laptop in the comfort of his bedroom.
Barb:
7:45am - Wakes, rounds cats up - feeds them their respective stinky breakfasts.
8:05 - Fries kippers, toasts bread - macerates and swallows the lot in three minutes' flat.
8:08 - Licks plate clean. Proffers any leftovers to cats.
9:34 - Hosts her legendary(?) Sunday Secular Spectacular in the sitting room. Usual attendees are: Mr Beech from #23; Mrs Spendilove from #11 and Mrs Cathcart from #13.
11:30 - Runs her weekly bath; listens to podcast of You And Yours during her soak.
12:39 - Leaves the house for her Sunday constitutional.
No comments:
Post a Comment