Saturday morning, 3 AM

I was in the middle of a nice sleep. Blech… blech…Murphy! Not discerning, Murphy throws up wherever he happens to be, so there was a nice pile on the landing upstairs. I ran down the stairs and opened the front door. He followed at his own speed. So at 3.30 I was scrubbing the carpet at the top of the stairs, half way down the stairs and on the mat by the front door (in two places – it is a large Mat) the whole time B was snoring for England. I asked him nicely to turn over and shut up. He told me he “was asleep’ in a somewhat strange Birmingham accent, I calmly told him the whole blooming street know he is asleep!

Sigh.

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