Gibbs: ‘Hey, Casey, you sure it’s ok to be on Mum’s bed, like this?’
Casey: ‘Yea, of course, it’s ok. It’s our bed.’
Gibbs: ‘But what if she wants to sleep on it?’
Casey: ‘She can go sleep on the sofa. It’s no big deal.’
Gibbs: ‘What if we’re on the sofa, what then?’
Casey: ‘It’s our sofa. We can go where we want to.’
Gibbs: ‘But where will Mum go?’
Casey: ‘Anywhere she likes. Not our problem.’
Gibbs: ‘What about the dining chairs? What if we’re sleeping on them?’
Casey: ‘Not a problem, Gibbs. They’re our chairs. We sleep where we want.’
Gibbs: ‘But what if she’s got ‘people’ over for dinner and we’re on the chairs?’
Casey: ‘Like I said, Gibbs, not our problem. Let them eat cake.’
Gibbs: ‘Are you asleep, Casey?’
Casey: ‘Not any more.’
A Morning Kiss
A morning kiss, a discreet touch of his nose landing somewhere on the middle of my face.
Because his long white whiskers tickled, I began every day laughing.
Janet F Faure