Sunday, 22 April 2012

C'mon, boys, we'll head 'em off at the pass!

So I did it, and it's clean…(ish). Everywhere except Number One Child's bedroom, which is stereotypical in its messiness, and which has a suspiciously sweet sticky scent on opening the door, (which I do twice a day - once to wake her up for school, and again to Wake Her UP FOR SCHOOL ten minutes later). And here - the window sill in the lavatory. I don't like to disturb the boys. The Mohicans (Blackfeet? Sioux?) look sagely on as the cowboys fight it out over some cattle. They are very small cows - in fact, the (sheep)dog is as big as they are. I have pointed out to the lads that perhaps they aren't worth it, and maybe we should all go and have a nice cup of tea, especially as a couple of them no longer have pistols, or, in fact, hands. But two in particular seem insistent - the leaning cowboy at the back, on the left is from the 70s and may even be Charles Coburn (Champion the Wonder Horse is his mate), and the crawling cowboy centre stage is 30s (I think) and a bit of a drama queen. I left them to it - I have a potato salad to put together, which is as complicated as my cooking really ever gets. The cows don't seem very concerned.

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