Anyway, there she was with the crumpet almost in the ‘ready’ position and with the otter looking somewhat perturbed. Just then a Newsflash broke into one of those soap opera programmes she likes to watch whilst preparing the crumpets and getting the otter into position. I don’t know which soap opera it was, they all consist of over-loud stroppy women screaming either at each other or at some hapless bloke (in a female-driven world – such as soap opera - all blokes have to be hapless – it is a law) about some matter of overwhelming triviality.
Anyway, the newscaster was looking suitably grave, so we assumed that something of great import had happened….
Which it had….
Anyway, it was something of great import happening far away and so consequently there was little for us to do but to gawp at the endlessly repeating images of nothing much happening now that the matter of great import was over, meanwhile the news studio wheeled in expert after expert to give us their essential suppositions and speculations whilst some junior researcher deep in the heart of the newsroom rang around a contact list trying to find out what was really happening… if anything.
It was only then, ten minutes later, we realised that the otter – seeing us distracted by the TV - had grabbed the crumpet and made its escape and was now ensconced under the sideboard hastily licking up the last of the crumpet crumbs with what could only have been a triumphant grin on its be-whiskered face.
Sometimes, I think the very gods themselves conspire against me.
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