When I was small, I had reddish gold curls, and my parents used to chant a rhyme at me:
There was a little girl
and she had a little curl
right in the middle of her fore'ead
When she was good
she was very, very good...
but when she was bad, she was horrid!
Which sums up my feelings today when I noticed my gardening coat had fallen off the peg. I noticed, as I caught Indigo slinking away from it.... having just weed on it.
Gaaaahhhhhhhh! Someone remind me why I have cats!!!!!