Bunty Takes Sanctuary at the Manor

CRICHTON GOES VIRAL AGAIN

   The Dawn Service on Easter morning was very special as always. Rev Colin sang the office with only one or two stumbles, which one can excuse so early in the morning, especially as he’s still recovering from his altercation with the Palm Sunday donkey.

Champagne in the chalice too… a splendid idea. 

I still keep up the tradition of decorating the house with yellow chicks and painted eggs…the rabbit that Jerome made out of toilet rolls and cotton wool at nursery school is no longer suitable for the table for reasons of hygiene, so it has pride of place on the side board. 

Seven of us, including Granny T, sat down for Roast Paschal Lamb and Lemon Meringue pie, with  Douglas and Monica, who had joined us to get away from the grandchildren. She says Isolde has become very pedantic about things now she is pregnant, and chocolate is firmly off the menu, even at Easter. 

Crichton had done a sweep of the Waitrose seasonal aisle weeks ago, so there was no problem with that here and I had hidden more chocolate eggs in the garden for old time’s sake> Unfortunately, Brexit beat us to them and was later sick on the carpet. Chocolate is not at all good for dogs and I really should know better.

Crichton Comments

  Monica and Douglas came over for lunch and for once we weren’t treated to a monologue from Monica about The Triplets. I think their role as Grandparents has become rather tedious lately and Douglas has acquired a slight tremor which I managed to sooth with a large Sipsmith and Tonic…poor blighter admitted that he has actually been changing nappies! He looked so ashamed when he told me, but his confession is safe with me. We chaps must stick together.

   On Bank holiday Monday, the sun was still shining so I decided we should make the most of it and go for an outing in the car, like we used to when the twins were small. Crichton drove us to Conningsby Abbey with the twins in the back tapping at their phones…at least they weren’t pinching each other. We must have been to the abbey a hundred times before, but the ruins still hold a certain charm. Dogs are allowed on leads…another good reason for choosing this particular English Heritage destination, and Brexit loved charging about on his elastic cord, tripping people up by tangling it round their legs. 

We’d booked a table for lunch at the Prior’s Arms over the road…no dogs in the dining room and we didn’t want to sit outside with all the smokers, so we left Brexit tucked up in the back of the car on his blanket with the window wound down enough to stop him suffocating, but without being able to jump out.  

I wish we hadn’t splurged out on pudding and coffee. We would have returned to the car park sooner and might have prevented Brexit’s escape to the front seat where he chewed the knob off the gear lever. 

There was quite a crowd of onlookers when we arrived. 

If only Jerome and Arraminta had kept quiet and just got in the car instead of goading their father, Crichton might not have sworn so much, and those nasty people might not have filmed us and put it on Facebook. I just hope Cook doesn’t see it.

3,402 likes before we’d even got home.

Crichton Comments

  It’s official…We are more famous than Fenton.

I try to do nice things for my family but what happens? The car is destroyed by The Bloody Sausage and all they do is laugh at me. 

The office did not provide the sanctuary that I had hoped for either. 

Oh no! They all cheered when I came in and waved their phones. The whole sorry incident has been recorded and spread world-wide…I blame the twins for disseminating my shame. Even Sandra, who I can usually rely upon for some sanity, smirked when she asked me if I’d had a good Easter break.

Alex maintains it is excellent publicity for Trehorlicks & Waffler and we should add it to our web site. He spent the morning coughing ‘bastard sausage’ or ‘fucking Brexit’ every time he passed my desk, until I kicked him hard in the shins.