My friend operates an open-door policy on her country home. So when I wandered into her kitchen the other day to find it deserted I decided to make myself comfortable, as she has often stated I should, and put the kettle on while I waited for someone to appear.
As I did so, her two young grandchildren burst through the kitchen door, screaming and fighting with each other.
I don’t know much about children, having never had any, but I do know that these were what you would call toddlers.
‘Where’s mummy?’ I shouted, above the din.
‘Waaaaaaaaaaah! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!’ they screamed back. ‘Woof! Grrrrr!’ said someone else.
My spaniel was now tussling with my friend’s dogs, a Labrador and a bulldog. As the children wrestled each other to the floor, the three dogs tumbled over and over each other barking and growling.
‘Where’s grandma?’ I shouted, barely making myself heard.
‘Waaaaaaaaah! Grrr! Woof!’ they all screamed, tearing chunks out of each other.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in