Dark Matter

My Dear Princess & Dear Fellows,

Feefs is back. She is staying with us for three days. She managed to get a cheap flight and BOOM here she is.

I love it. I am very relaxed around Feefs, she is one of my best mates and anyway she is hilarious. She launched straight into stories about how her husband, Big Nipper, has started using HER bathroom and HER toilet when he wants to do a poo.

"F*cken rude man," she said. "And all because he claims Pops* prowls the hallways when he's trying to sh*t in the family toilet and makes it go back up."

It is true that Shetland Dad does have an unfortunate habit of just being THERE when you don't want him to be. And he is not a great respecter of privacy, but still I don't recall him ever breaking in on me when I was trying to have a meaningful conversation with a toilet.

"It's nothing to do with that really," Feefs clarified. "It's just because my toilet seat is wood, while the one in the family toilet is plastic and it can be f*cken COLD. It can make ya bum shrivel."

I'm not sure what that would feel like. I don't think I want to find out.

So Big Nipper has decided to co-opt Feefs's personal bathroom. I'm not sure how she negotiated that bathroom for herself in the first place, but apparently the lines have been re-drawn and it is now shared property with her husband, under especial "pooey" circumstances.

"And it sucks man, because he sprays that stupid deodourising spray around but it does no good at all. My bathroom just smells like shitrus afterward."

So that was the point in the conversation where I lost control. Seriously. Tears. "Shitrus". I ask you.

We are in for an interesting couple of days. Cazza and Feefs are out tonight with another mutual friend and I am alone to catsit. But that is all right. Too much of this here "high brow" conversation can wear a chap out.

S.

* This is her name for Shetland Dad.