Kibble

There’s no denying that standing on a Lego brick or an upturned plug can be particularly painful.

But I’d like to submit another item for your consideration.

Cat biscuits.

They might only be small, and appear to have beautifully rounded edges at first glace but once your foot finds one, then all bets are off. They are one of the most painful things you can stand on, in my opinion. People shouldn’t do the walking across coals thing as a test of their resilience or whatever, they should walk across a bed of cat biscuits and see how they get on.

I bet even people who lie, for fun, on beds of nails would rather do that than stand on a discarded piece of cat kibble.

This came to the fore, for me, last night. We have recently reseeded the front lawn, and it requires daily watering for the next few weeks. Which is excellent when you’ve done it at a time when there is no rain to be seen on the weather forecasts on your phone. To combat this, we run the hose pipe through the house from front to back. This is preferable to carrying several watering cans, even if Carole is slightly concerned that the hose will spring a leak somewhere on its journey.

Last night, somehow, the hose pipe decided to bring Peppa’s food along for a ride and scatter her biscuits everywhere.

We picked them all up.

Or so we thought.

I have found every single one we had missed.

Each and every one.

Always indicated by me shouting, “Fricking cat biscuits!” (although, to paraphrase Rocket Racoon, I didn’t say fricking).

I think I’ve got them all up now.

I’ll just go into the kitchen and get a drink.

“Frick…”