I am having a truly shit week - two close family members going through really awful experiences, some bad news for me personally, and my mum being hugely supportive but clearly struggling with being there for everyone.
So my cat, of course, decides that 10pm tonight is the perfect time to learn how to open the cupboard where we keep the glasses, climb inside, and send literally every single item of glass inside crashing to the ground, where they make a sound which would wake the hounds of hell and smash extravagantly on the floor. This sends my other (highly nervous) cat into a paroxysm of terror, as a result of which she uses my face and incredibly sore pregnancy boobs as a springboard to launch herself upstairs.
I’m now beadily eyeing the homewares vandal as he cleans his whiskers on the mantelpiece looking like he’s never done a thing wrong in his life, and wondering if he wouldn’t make quite a nice pair of slippers...?