Note how I am still here.
The 'rents are cooking dinner and I am above the kitchen, so the smell of fish (Friday) has overcome the smell of poo.
Really, I will clean his tray soon - I'm a responsible owner.
But the timing is wrong now.
Mum sometimes makes silly comments about how often I clean Diz's tray (I adore him - it's clean).
And she brought up three babies.
And she likes to mock my gag reflex.
But even so it's not fair to take a poo-bag through the kitchen during dinner.
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Life's hard you know, so strike a pose on a Cadillac
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