My night-time routine is, well, just that, a routine. I always take my trousers off and then sit on the bed to get the rest of me undressed. I do have a very good reason for this as I have rubbish balance and it gets even worse when the lights go out and I can’t see what I am doing. This means that if I am standing up when I take my t-shirt off, then I fall over. This may be highly amusing for hubby and the cats, but falling on your backside with your naked legs in the air is not really my idea of fun ...so I sit on the bed to get my kit off!
Anyway, there I was, sat on the bed stripping off jumper and t-shirt and flinging then across the room in the hope that they would land on (or at least near) the bench where I am supposed to fold my clothes neatly and place then each night (yeah right, like that good intention ever happened eh?). Anyway, Grace had decided that the bench looked comfy and dodging clothes was interesting so had ensconced herself on some item of clothing that I was trying to decide what to do with*1. Finally, I reached my bottom layer (the summer has been so cold here I had several layers on), took my bra off and gaily flung that across the room only to perfectly lasso the cat with my bra strap. She just sat there, looking completely bemused for all of about 2 seconds and then leap to her feet. I just knew I had to catch her or she’d be off, with my bra around her neck and who knows where she (or it) would end up!
Well, thankfully I did catch her before she got anywhere really but you should have seen it. That strap didn’t touch her nose or ears, it just sailed through the air and dropped perfectly right over her head without even ruffling her fur just a tiny bit. I just couldn’t do that again if I tried....
