F threatened to turn me into a Davy Crockett hat. I’ve no idea what a Davy Crockett hat is but
I’ve a feeling it’s not a happy outcome for a stripy Tigger.
F had spent Sunday evening sewing something orange that
looked like a hazard warning suit for a small human.
I’m all in favour of small humans being fitted out with hazard
warning systems; even I could spot, at a great distance, any small human wearing
that one.
So when the finished orange hazard suit was posing itself on
the settee, I inspected it closely and STAMPED it with my approval.
I called it ‘celebrity endorsement’.
F called it a ‘muddy footprint’.
I’ve gone into hiding until she puts those big scissors
away.
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