Sunday, 7 December 2008

I'm even starting to hate the dog...

"Mum, where's my Tae-Kwon-Do kit?"
"Can you help me with my homework, Mum?"
"Sar, can you come help me clean my house?"
"Can I borrow your strimmer?
"When you go shopping, can you pick me up some stuff?"
"Mum, my trousers need mending."
"I need some money for Christmas dinner tomorrow!"
"Can I borrow your car, Sar?"
"Is my PE kit clean; I need it for tomorrow."
"Can you pick me up from basketball tonight, Mum?"
"Mum, can Joe stay over at the weekend?"
"Mum, will you buy me some beer?"

Nooooooooooo! Bugger off! Leave me alone! I have coursework to do!

Everybody wants something from me. Mostly at the same time. It's driving me insane.

Even the bloody dog hassles me for stuff; three times a day, he moans and whimpers, and plonks his head in my lap and nudges my hand until I give-in and take him out for a w-a-l-k. Every time I go into the utility room, he follows me and blocks the route back into the kitchen. As I try to skirt around him, he dodges in my way again. I walk around him on the other side, and yep! you guessed it; he's under my feet again. Ever tried playing dodgeball with a bloody dog? And the reason for this impromptu sidestep? Doggy biscuits. This is a canine way of saying, 'This is where you keep my grub - where's my Bonio? Woof! Slobber! Wag! Biscuits!'

Doesn't sound too bad, I grant you, but I visit the utility room approximately sixty-four times a day.

Why can't they just leave me alone?

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