I have been doing some deep musing lately when sat on Daddy's lap. He saw me staring off at nothing yesterday, idly chewing my finger, and wondered what on earth I could be thinking so heavily about. And I explained that it seems to me that I'm at an age where some conundrums of life, the universe and everything need answering.
So...
Why doesn't Mummy ever, ever finish her morning coffee? She takes it outside with her morning cigarette, and brings it back in again undrunk and leaves it nicely within reach so Daddy always has to throw it away before I can get my little hands on it. But why ritually make it every day if you aren't going to drink it?
Why do the silly 'Friends' in the show about the coffee house seem to do the same things over and over again? I've seen them do the same silly things about six times over now, and they never do anything new.
Why can I stand myself up so easily but the moment I let go I fall down?
Why does Daddy like pretending to be Scottish Dwarves so much?
Why doesn't the thing on Daddy's arm wipe clean when he has a shower? I pawed and rubbed at it (and even tried to bite it once) for ages the other day and couldn't make a dent.
How come when Mummy is so good at persuading customers at work to buy shiny new household appliances, Daddy is so good at saying 'No' to her when she tries to persuade him we need them all in our house?
Why does the washing go upstairs but the washing up stays downstairs?
Answers to these deep, soulsearching questions would be appreciated. Anybody?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment