A day in the life of

When you happen to be at the butcher's you ask if they have one of these:

Guess who has a Bones exam in September?

Now, before you can use it to study, before you can write the names of all accidents on it, you need to do this:

Nothing like a juicy cow bone when you wake up from a surprise nap

For a veeeery looooong time. You need to boil it till everything that isn't bone is cooked, so you can remove it. And even then the bone will always stink a bit - of old bones, as it were. There's a distinct boney pong that adheres to your hands after you've manipulated them for a while. Mind you, the cooking of the bone itself stinks too. And vile bone smells wafting from the pot or the studying table never fail to attract these:

Oh the horror! What has she gone and got - again??

J.I.P. wasn't happy, and proceeded to back off hastily and then jump off the counter. Which was ok bcs little cats do not belong on kitchen counters. Not that Hum-Hum ["H" pronnounced like the Spanish "J", "U" pronounced as "oo", means Brown-Brown in Hebrew] cares about that, she wasn't fazed much:

I wish she'd pass the stupid exam already, this isn't dignified.

But then, her new idea of good, clean fun is throwing IKEA-bought bedside table lamps to the ground and then be very annoyed bcs the noise of glass shattering gives her a fright. How dare they.

A cow was actually harmed before the making of this post but, for once, I didn't have a thing to do with it.