An actual picture of the old woman. True.
The old man and the old woman have a new vacuum cleaner. It’s a state-of-the-art bagless upright with a quiet motor. The last one made enough noise to wake the dead and invariably sent me running out into the garden as if pursued by the hounds of hell.
It was a monstrous machine so, obviously, I treated it as a monster. And attacked it. It fell open and I leapt on its internal organs. Did you know that monsters’ stomachs are full of dust and fluff? It went everywhere, all over the sitting-room floor, covering the furniture, books, ornaments and me. I sneezed so much I threw up.
While trying to escape the monster’s clutches I pulled the lead and the monster flew across the room and ended up wedged under the sofa.
Not all cats hate vacuum cleaners
The old man and woman took one look at the chaos, laughed at me covered in fluff (they often laugh inappropriately at my predicaments) and decided Monstrous Machine had had its day.
The old woman tried out the new machine. It glided effortlessly across the room, picking up everything in its path. Until… Stop! Stop! That’s my toy! Give it back, you monster!
The old woman switched off the machine, pulled Fluffy Bum from its jaws and threw it my direction.
‘You’re going to have to be careful about where you leave your toys from now on,’ she says.
Really...? I fear new vacuum cleaner’s days are numbered.