Kitchen sink dramas
I like my mornings simple. It's always an early start - 6.30am, but every second is crucial to get everyone ready for the day ahead. Kids, dogs, grown-ups - and normally it runs like clockwork.
However, some days you open the kitchen door and there's a mystery to solve before you start.
The worst one in my memory was the day of the rat.
Finding a dead rat in the kitchen didn't inspire me to write a hit record, sadly. Tess looked guilty, so she got the blame. But the rat looked serene, not a mark on it. And no rat-shaped holes anywhere - or footprints in the butter dish.
Oscar has since had a dead frog concealed in his coat - so perhaps he might have smuggled it in the night before?
Tess had taken to her bed very early the night before - could she have had Mr Rat in for a sleepover?
Yesterday, I spotted nothing out of the ordinary as I walked into the kitchen bare foot. Well not until my foot felt something warm and squidgy. One of the dogs had been sick - and there was a totally undigested roast dinner abandoned on the floor. Odd.
Normally the dogs are keen to re-eat things that look much less savoury. And we had all enjoyed our roast Sunday dinners, don't know what was not to the dog's taste in the left overs!
This morning I still obviously hadn't learnt my lesson by investing in slippers. The toes quickly detected wetness.
At first I blamed the dogs. We hadn't had a puddle in the kitchen for years, so it was totally out of character. But the dogs were the obvious suspects.
When I found it was a two kitchen roll (the expensive ultra-absorbant ones) sort of lake I became more puzzled.
I did the sniff test - nothing.
The dishwasher, fridge freezer and sink all looked totally blameless, too. Looking above there was no damp patch in the ceiling, either.
I still remain perplexed.
The water was in the middle of the kitchen, it hadn't come under a door.
Perhaps I'd disturbed the dogs in the middle of their first attempt at washing the floor? They've watched us enough - perhaps it's natural evolution?
Or was it a puddle of tears from the widowed Mrs Rat?
When I get home will there be more water? And what will be on the kitchen floor next?
However, some days you open the kitchen door and there's a mystery to solve before you start.
The worst one in my memory was the day of the rat.
Finding a dead rat in the kitchen didn't inspire me to write a hit record, sadly. Tess looked guilty, so she got the blame. But the rat looked serene, not a mark on it. And no rat-shaped holes anywhere - or footprints in the butter dish.
Oscar has since had a dead frog concealed in his coat - so perhaps he might have smuggled it in the night before?
Tess had taken to her bed very early the night before - could she have had Mr Rat in for a sleepover?
Yesterday, I spotted nothing out of the ordinary as I walked into the kitchen bare foot. Well not until my foot felt something warm and squidgy. One of the dogs had been sick - and there was a totally undigested roast dinner abandoned on the floor. Odd.
Normally the dogs are keen to re-eat things that look much less savoury. And we had all enjoyed our roast Sunday dinners, don't know what was not to the dog's taste in the left overs!
This morning I still obviously hadn't learnt my lesson by investing in slippers. The toes quickly detected wetness.
At first I blamed the dogs. We hadn't had a puddle in the kitchen for years, so it was totally out of character. But the dogs were the obvious suspects.
When I found it was a two kitchen roll (the expensive ultra-absorbant ones) sort of lake I became more puzzled.
I did the sniff test - nothing.
The dishwasher, fridge freezer and sink all looked totally blameless, too. Looking above there was no damp patch in the ceiling, either.
I still remain perplexed.
The water was in the middle of the kitchen, it hadn't come under a door.
Perhaps I'd disturbed the dogs in the middle of their first attempt at washing the floor? They've watched us enough - perhaps it's natural evolution?
Or was it a puddle of tears from the widowed Mrs Rat?
When I get home will there be more water? And what will be on the kitchen floor next?
Comments
Michelle (extremely nosy and a bit bored at the moment)
My worst experience was when I was living in a lovely garden flat in London - I didn't have a dog as I was working at the Kennel Club and you couldn't take dogs to work!
I came home from work to find the wooden kitchen floor covered in yellow spots. It was as if there'd been an explosion of custard. I bent down and put my finger in one of the spots and had just put it to my mouth to see if it was indeed a custard accident that my flat mate had had - when I spotted something moving in the sitting room. It was a bird that had fallen down the chimney! You will have guessed what I'd just put in my mouth - the poor bird had obviously been terrified!