Times and Seasons

The campaigning has continued in our household, but there are only two votes up for grabs and mine has been already been determined [correctly] to be a soft touch; and what is at stake is not the door of 10 Downing Street but whether we get a Guinea Pig. In reality we have already decided to give in, later in the summer, but before that, it is wonderful to bait the children. Indeed that is one of the great joys of the family growing up, that we can embarras the children. I do a great 'skipping elephant' and the fact that an elephant cannot skip, and neither can I, is neither here nor there.

Going back to the Guinea Pig campaign it is being waged with considerable energy, if little tact. The most recent event led to the offer of a guinea pig, crispy fried or roasted on a spit; and very loud protestations of cruelty. To which I was sorely tempted to reply, 'don't tease, there are times and seasons for everything and guinea pigs are better at Christmas'. But there are times and there are seasons; and so I kept quiet except for the laughter, which left the campaigners hitting me for my cruelty!