Last night De came over for a glass of wine and a chat, and while she was pouring the wine I went to put away the dishes. I picked up a wine glass and BAM! SMASH! the glass shattered all over the floor.
I swept and swept and kept finding glass in the most far-flung of locations - how can bits of glass be under the telly, on the armchair and in the cat's bowl? I mean, I dropped the wine glass, I didn't dash it to the floor from the top of the stairs. After 20 minutes I decided that the glass was all swept away, and decided to soak the cat's bowl just in case. I added some baking soda and BAM! SMASH! the jar of baking soda shattered all over the floor.
At that point I about wanted to give up and go to bed, because seriously. I haven't broken a glass all year let alone two in the space of half an hour.
Luckily Mr Puss was upstairs begging for laptime, as usually when glass smashes he is all over it and the idea of him dancing through shards of broken glass was not a good one.
So I finally, finally got all the glass swept up, then declared I wasn't to touch anything breakable for the rest of the night.
And lucky De! She came over for a glass of wine and a chat and instead watched me sweep the floor. She learned a few new swear words though, so she's probably ok with it.
I love how Mr Puss looks like he's in some sort of wooden prison:
because sometimes that would solve some problems.
Comments