Baby Shark
I do not want to hear Baby Shark one more time! Actually, I’ve got a bone to pick with some of you. It’s all the fault of those who used Baby Shark in the village pantomime last year or the year before, whichever it was. It took a very long time for our Mistress to stop being annoying and singing it. I finally thought we’d knocked it out of her until yesterday. The story began the day before yesterday in reality. One of the problems of me being ill is that I’m losing a lot of coat. Normally we only moult twice a year. I’m working on twice a day at the moment. Our Mistress is trying to keep on top of it by giving me a gently brush three times a day, but the carpets still don’t look great where I’ve been lying down.
Vacuum Cleaner
That’s the point at which she had this vague memory of where the vacuum cleaner lives and got it out. Now, you will tell from that sentence that our Mistress does not do the vacuuming in the house very often. What I am about to tell you might help you understand why. No sooner had she plugged it in and started to clean up my spare hair, then there was a gentle pop sound, well to be honest it was more of a bang. Then there was a burning smell. So, that’s the end of the vacuum cleaner. Our Mistress said ‘But we’ve only just bought it,’ which in reality turned out to be seven years ago next month.
Back to sharks
Anyway, that’s how we got to Baby Shark. She looked up what was going to work best and came up with a make she hadn’t heard of before called a Shark. It was delivered yesterday and as soon as she started trying it out she seemed compelled to accompany it with the singing, (I was going to say tune – but if you heard her sing you’d know why I chose my words carefully) of Baby Shark. Anyway, it’s just a good job she doesn’t use it very often that’s all I can say. I’m having a hard enough time anyway without having to listen to her sing!
Alfie