"Nursemyra wants to see some more photos" came the dulcet tones of the terrible Goddess from the other room where BigMac resides.
"Oh" said I, getting straight to the point.
"I'll like to email her one or two".
"Oh".
"You murdered iPhoto the other day, remember!" [definitely less dulcet]
"Oh".
"Do something!!" [for dulcet now read barb-wired].
"I'll send you an email with some piccies".
My fingers flew across lappytop and within seconds I heard -
"Thank you darling". [dulcet but with the ironic intonation I know and fear].
I'm going to start internet shopping from Asda's now, get a teasmade and rig up some bits of string and some pulleys to open the front door, invest in an electrically operated reclining chair and my work will be done.
[I know you're worried about taking Gertrude for 'walkies' - I'm working on that as I speak but I can tell you it involves some bed springs, elastic, a long stick and a mirror].
