Nov 8, 2020: Muggins

It’s really weird, what with at least one of us being home all the time during the lockdown 2.0 period, that we’re not seeing the person who breaks into our house and uses all the mugs and cutlery.

They might, for all we know, be coming in the same way as that bloody cat does/did.

It’s the only explanation.

Because someone is using an awful lot of mugs and spoons. And there’s only two of us here, and I’m the only one who uses the mugs – unless Carole dabbles in a hot chocolate – and I use the same mug over and over again rather than be one of those fools who uses a clean mug for every subsequent identical hot beverage.

And yet… there are mugs aplenty at the side of the sink. Alongside plates which cannot be accounted for, and cutlery that we just haven’t used.

The only thing that we can definitely say is us is the pint glasses which Carole uses to ferry orange juice to her office space and which stay up there until they are returned to the downstairs area en masse for a wash before the process can begin again.

She definitely does that. Although she does make three glasses feel like three thousand.

But I don’t do that with the mugs. I definitely don’t.

And yet someone has used them all.

And, more recently, all the teaspoons. And we have a lot of them. But they’re all being used. Even the one with the stupidly long handle. Even the ones that, if they are actually a tea spoon in volume, are very generous with their scoop size.

I might have to set up the trail camera in the kitchen to see who I can catch in the act.

It’s not us. It can’t be us.