I am afraid that I do not speak of these objects with any level of affection. In fact they are a source of much frustration and frequently induce muttered swear words from me. Wiggle loves collecting small things, so much to the point that nothing is safe in our house. It does not matter who it belongs to, she will swipe it and then add it to her ever expanding collection. She has several storage vessels and her mission is to transfer all this bits and pieces from box to lunchbox, lunchbox to jar, jar to tin and so on. She is very meticulous about what she should carry them around in on any given day. The problem with all this regular transferring is that it usually results in her dropping them all over the place and that in turn means I have to pick them up. The other problem is that one can be going about one's business and then suddenly tread on something such as a marble that makes you jump. This can be very hazardous when carrying coffee for example. If I tread on one more bead I think I may not be responsible for the language that comes out of my mouth. Her other trick is to fill her pockets with her swag and I always find out after I have put the washing machine on and then I have to listen to an hours clanking and clattering as a handful of marbles or beads get a thorough cleaning. As I type, the washing machine is making such nosies, I will find out what the cause is soon enough, I am sure. She is a hoarder of expert skill and despite my annoyance I can't help feeling it endears me to her more. She has a wheeler, dealer and geezer charm to her that shines through in the mischief she gets up to.
Saturday, 5 March 2011
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