My mother is 87, my son is 7. Since we don’t live conveniently close, we rely on the phone to keep in touch.
I can hand the phone to the Smallcat and leave them to it while I get on with household chores in peace. If anyone can explain to me just what this conversation was about, then answers on a postcard please.
(Obviously, I only heard Smallcat’s side of the conversation).
"I am in charge of the whole world, because I decided what lives there and what shape it is. There are also baby mushrooms".
"Only trees grow. Which are completely immobile".
"Derek, the teenage mushroom, is pretty much unconscious".
"I painted my papier mache in a colour called "Party World". It was as GOLDEN as the SUN!"
"There's an evil swamp of death, but the oil went into it and made it pretty much oil toxic"
<pause>
"No, that was only the first bit, Nan. Obviously."
Hmmmm……
3 comments:
What has the wee kitten been smoking, anyway?
I think he's writing the next Twilight novel interspersed with a journalist piece on the BP oil slick, combined with instructions on fungal foraging.
I'm a bit alarmed at the evil swamp of death. I'd steer clear of it. Is it in his sock drawer?
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