Today is my birthday, and were I a Roman it would be my LI’th.
This year’s prize for the card, and gift, which made me laugh out loud goes to the Squire.
The slippers are white and have penguins on them. And I mean on them, not printed onto the fabric but a fluffy penguin sliding down each upper. (The Squire and I have been exchanging penguins in various forms since the Falklands War when we were flat-mates, but that’s a story for another day.)
The card has a photo of a black and white kitten sitting smugly inside a large teacup. The caption reads “A few weeks into her detox diet, Kitty’s owner discovered why the herbal tea tasted like cat’s pee.”
Last spring our old tortoiseshell Tiddles passed away. She replaced (after much nagging from Number Two son) with a black and white kitten, which of course we called Kitty.
Isn't it satisfying to find, and receive, the perfect card.
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