Today is the last day of the school holidays and Idgy returns to the land of books and lessons tomorrow. I feel guilty that I haven’t been able to take her out and about this holiday due to the damn foot, however being a teenager she seems to be quite happy with lazing in bed of the morning and chatting to friends, drawing and writing in the afternoons and the odd venture out and about with pals. She doesn’t want to hit the scholastic life again so soon, she is putting up the moans already.
I bet by now you are wondering why this post features such an odd title and the photos of Minou, well dear reader I am getting to that bit. With Idgy going back to school tomorrow she is having to get her uniform, jotters and books and of course school bag sorted out today. We talked about this last night and laughed about a certain incident that took place just a few weeks ago before the holidays started. It was while my web site was in limbo and I couldn’t blog about it, so I thought I’d share it with you now.
Look at the above photo. Does this look like an innocent animal to you? Butter wouldn’t melt in it’s mouth, right?
Wrong, wrong, wrong!
Once upon a time in a land far, far away (well actually about three weeks ago in my kitchen, but the other opening sounded far better) a little girl (okay, I know she is 14 but let me have my fairytale moments puleeese!)
skipped through the forest did her homework and packed her school bag for the next day. This was her very favourite school bag, a rucksack with comic book images all over it that she got as a prezzie last summer.
stuffed carefully packed her books and jotters into the bag and left it on the kitchen floor, just beside the table. Later that night this gorgeous girl and her fabulous, slim, beautiful, successful and rich mother who looked ten years younger than she really was (come on this is my story I get to elaborate just a smidgen okay!) shut their noisy spotty cat in the kitchen and climbed the stairs to their respective bedrooms.
All was well in the world and the two lovely ladies slept well and in the morning the younger of the two stepped lightly (staggered, remember it was a school day) into the kitchen and fed the greedy pussycat. She then sat down to delicately guzzle her coco pops.
Just a few moments later the other lovely lady in the house (moi) who was still upstairs in bed, heard a shreak and the sort of language that she was more used to hearing from her own lips than those of her delightful daughter.
“Get out the b%*&$y house you horrible pissy pussy!”.
There followed a loud bang as the widow slammed after the cat left the kitchen in something of a hurry.
The lovely lady hobbled downstairs to find the delightful daughter clutching her empty school bag and a cascade of damp books on the floor.
There was a distinct aroma in the room. One they were both unfortunately somewhat familiar with having owned Minou for a year and a half.
“That horrible stinker has pee-ed in my school bag” screeched the delightful daughter while shaking the bag that still dripped from the feline fiasco.
There then followed a hasty scrabble on the floor as our heroes tried to salvage the homework jotters. A few were dare I say it, beyond hope. Others they thought they would be able to cut creatively to remove the worse bits. So the Aga was soon littered with jotters and papers in various states of sponged imperfection.
The school bus was due any minute, panic was rising in the younger persons heart. “I can’t take them to school like that, I’ll get shot for no homework” she whimpered. Action was called for. “I’ll write a note” ventured the mother and quickly grabbed a card to scribble on.
Dear Miss McCrone,
I am afraid that Imogen does not have her homework jotters with her this morning. I’m sure you have heard all the old excuses over the years of how “The dog ate my homework” and such like, well I am here to tell you that sometimes the far fetched story/excuse can actually be true – Our horrible cat unfortunately chose Idgy’s school bag rather than her litter tray to answer the call of nature last night. This has resulted in her jotters being covered in cat wee and somewhat smelly. We have sponged them off and repaired what we can of the damage, but at this moment they are drying on the Aga and Idgy is unable to bring them to school as she should. I hope you will forgive the missing homework incident this morning, I can assure you she will have the jotters with her tomorrow, regardless of their aromatic state.
So off the little girl skipped to school clutching her letter to the teacher.
Several hours later she returned to the lovely little house on the top of the hill and stormed into the kitchen where her loving/gorgeous/youthful dadadada etc mother was waiting for her. “How did it go with the homework?” the mother asked.
“No problem, I’m now called Cat Wiz” came the reply.
“Cat Wiz? Why? What did the teacher say?” asked the mother.
“Well after she stopped laughing, she read it out to the class and everyone enjoyed it, that’s how I got the name Cat Wiz. It could have been worse, Widdles was one suggestion”.
So that dear reader is the story of Cat Wiz and how the most innocent of pussy cats can be a monster in disguise.
All bags are hung up in our house nowadays. Leave it on the floor at your peril.