I have an assignment!
Clearly believing that their priest can’t count to nine (or, possibly, having misled the Father about young Sam’s date of birth), Tall Andy and Kitten will be returning to Norwich’s RC Cathedral tomorrow for Sam’s christening.
“Would you like an official photographer?“, I joked.
“As a matter of fact, yes. I was going to ask but thought you were going to be in Kairdiff.”
Oh bugger. Can’t make a mess of these, can I? Especially with Tall Andy being my boss and young Sam having blue eyes (as do I, unlike Tall Andy!1).
I’d been chatting to Kitten (the three of them had appeared at the orifice mid-morning before Kitten and Sam headed off for a serious shop).
“Looking forward to coming back to work?”
“No, not really.”
“Oh dear. Maybe you could do something different, working for yourself and fitting hours around Sam?”
“I can’t do anything.”
“Nothing crafty?”
She shook her head.
“Oh well. You could always become a glamour model.” Why did I say “glamour” instead of “glamourous“? GlamorOUS, for fuck’s sake! At least Tall Andy found this latest faux pas of mine hilarious, though, when I told him later. Kitten doesn’t exactly enjoy being photographed so the idea of her being a glamour model is rather amusing, I suppose.
1 Of course I’m not. If I was (and I’m not) do you really think I’d announce it like this?
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