I haven’t blogged for a while. I’ve been busy. Looking after the Little People is quite tiring, but goodness knows, I do my best.
This is my smallest little person. He’s the one in blue trousers.
I’d lost my treat ball under the sofa bed at the weekend and the little man was trying to help me get it out. We both had our heads stuck underneath for a while and I did try to persuade him to wriggle right under, but he wasn’t having any of it.
He gave me almost a whole packet of cheesy puffs the other day and quite a lot of his tuna sandwich. Yesterday he shared his fromage frais with me. I have really got the hang of training these Little People, which considering I didn’t even encounter one until I was five, isn’t bad going.
Trouble is, the bigger they get, the less likely they are to share, although they all shared their cookies with me after swimming. Herself says it’s unhealthy, but I says it’s tasty.
I like to sprawl out on the swing seat, but I didn’t realise there had to be a human bean on it to hold it still when I jumped up. No one ever bothered telling me.
I leapt up, looking forward to a shady nap and the whole thing moved and flung me skywards like a clay pigeon. As I flew through the air, I half expected someone to yell, “Pull!”
I landed in a heap and when I stood up, my back leg stuck out at a peculiar angle. I hobbled round the garden with Herself running after me, “What have you done?”
“Well, I thought I’d see what it was like to fly,” I said. It was lost on her. She rubbed my back, felt all round my hips and my legs and got herself into a right state. I milked it for a minute or two, did the whole sad-eyed I-need-a-treat thing (to no avail I might add), then spotted one of the Little People emerging from the house with a packet of Prawn Cocktail crisps.
It brought about a miracle recovery.
Before I go, she says I have to tell you about this link. Lots of prizes up for grabs, including two chances to win a Kindle. Can you beat it, she said - Can you eat it, that’s what I’d like to know?