Sunday Stupidity

tray chic
Miss Moppet, a genteel woman of uncertain age, lives a perfectly mundane existence.

Miss Moppet arose at the usual hour of 2.30am to begin her day. She tie-dyed the bed sheets a charming vermillion shade and draped them purposefully over the hydrangeas, being careful to step on the new lettuces on her way so as to deter slugs.

Having written and sent several letter of complaint to the “Tmes” about the length of daylight, Miss Moppet baked one blueberry muffin and threw it, with surprising dexterity, into the neighbor’s potting shed.

“That will teach HIM!” mused Miss Moppet as she climbed the elm tree to  check if it was spring.

Observing a lark, Miss Moppet loaded a cat into her trebuchet and dealt swiftly with both. The cat, as usual, landed on its feet.

Miss Moppet was surprised to find that it was now daylight.

“Another letter to the “Times” she thought as she stirred the vat of pickled cucumbers with an oar she always kept handy.

Having enjoyed a breakfast consisting of a cup of coffee and the battered remains of a pain au chocolat her neighbour had inexpertly hurled into her rotunda, Miss Moppet set about grouting the laundry.

This took longer than expected, for the laundry was not tiled and so, following a quick lunch of a marron glace and a suckling pig (Miss Moppet was dieting again) she lost no time in setting fire to the outhouse and refurbishing an old Wurlitzer organ she had found on a streetside collection.

Slightly fatigued, Miss Moppet barely had enough energy to prepare a Bombe Alaska which she also threw over the fence for good measure.

Taking the meat cleaver from her knitting bag she dealt the sofa several blows and then fell into a delicious slumber.

“This has been a day well spent”, thought Miss Moppet as she drifted off.

 

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