New Look

Fabio escaped the other morning. It was early on a Saturday and Robert and I were in the garden pruning the vines while he was watching Cbeebies and eating toast. When I went to check on him, the front door was wide open and he was gone. He was stood on the corner with a neighbour I'd never met before, looking like a disgrace. He was in his socks with his dressing gown gaping open like Rigsby off Rising Damp and with jam and toast-crumbs coating his face.

So I got Scott round to fit new child-proof locks and paint the door while he was at it. It's meant to be plum but it's more of a pink really and the numbers I bought were a bit large so Scott made a special plaque for the wall which I'm not really sure about. I spent a fortune on 'door furniture' but at least the super-sized letter box means the postie can now get all of Robert's hundreds of daily cds through the door in under 50 minutes. And Fabio won't get taken away by The Social.