Boot

It was cold.

I huddled into my dressing gown, pulling it tight to my goosepimpled skin. I looked about the breakfast table. No-one else seemed to be suffering. Just me.

What was it?

My daughter was in fact in a state of undress that would no give me the flaming jibjabs if it was ten years hence. She wasn't cold.

It was likewise with my son who was sitting in his high chair with only a nappy on. He wasn't cold either.

My teeth chattered in the frigid air and my salty balls pulled up anchor and retreated inward to a warmer shore.

What was it?

I quickly scanned out the window and saw to my relief that it was very frosty outside. So, it was obviously cold. But we were inside? And the heating was blatantly on judging by my family's state of undress.

Ah, what about the Good Lady? I wondered if she was cold?

Clenching my teeth to avoid them chattering I looked over at her. At that precise moment, she looked up from feeding the little boom and met my eyes.

Arrrgh?!! A frosty and bitter wind blew in my direction. My marrow began to freeze in my bones.

It was her! The bitter frost and cold was emanating from the Good Lady?! But what had a poor innocent man like me done? Had she caught a glimpse of bank account and saw how much I spent on beer a week? That might explain it.

Oh well, say one thing about me, say that I am brave.

Hey, little sugar-petal. You don't seem very happy?

I trilled like a canary spared the mine.

She grunted like something dank and large in a sewer.

C'mon, babycakes? Is something the matter?

Again she grunted and narrowed her eyes at me, her breath ssssing out of pursed lips.

Hmm, this did not look good. She was obviously in a bad mood with innocent defenceless Daddy-Bear. What could be done?

Finished!

Announced the little lady, picking up her bowl and trooping into the kitchen with it.

I saw my opportunity.

Hey, you. Spit it out then. What's wrong?

I asked in an urgent whisper.

The good lady glowered over at me.

Don't you even know?

She hissed.

I put on my best hurt face which makes me look like a spaniel longing for a tummy tickle.

No, I haven't done anything... Have I?

The good lady's eyes flashed in anger.

Is it about our little argument last night? I thought that was all sorted. Surely you aren't bearing a grudge after a little argument?

I made a kadgagoogoo face and winked winningly.

You called me a gnarly old boot.

She stated, her voice rising impressively into the screech of a feathered killing machine.

I cast my mind back to our argument which had been so silly I could barely remember what it was even about. I remember it got a bit heated. I didn't really remember how it ended. Oops.

Ahem, did I? I'm sorry.

The little lady came back in the room singing a jaunty tune. Behind her back, the Good Lady pointed at me and drew her finger across her neck in a cutty throaty action.

Oops indeed. I think I had better tread carefully today...