I'm a little pig. Well, not me. Them.
The dining room. Dinner time. Choice mouth-watering ambrosia offered to the
herd family. The sun has come out and is filtering lazily through the curtains. Just wanted to set the idyllic scene that I offer to my family ungrateful fellow tenants.
"A cake!" crows Himself, scooping up a wodge of rice that has stuck together and formed a huge clump. And he stuffs it in his mouth. Sadly the wodge is actually bigger than his gob - hard to believe, I know - and he has trouble getting it in. To the extent that he actually snorts as he shovels! Like a pig! I am aghast and shocked. "Did you really just snort?" I ask. And he laughs. Spraying part of that rice wodge, but that is irrelevant.
I gaze at the rabble in dismay. I decide a short pep-talk is in order. "Listen, chaps." I say jovially. "In a couple of weeks we are off on our hols with our chums, and they might prefer it if we displayed the odd modicum of table manners, decorum, what?" That is paraphrasing. What I actually said was "If you embarrass me in front of my mates, you are so dead."
Thing One consoles me. "Don't worry, Mum, we'll behave." And she nosedives into her dinner, eschewing cutlery to trough directly from the plate. Thing Two takes a huge mouthful, then grins at me, mouth wide open. Himself chugs his drink, belching, and patting his stomach. "Hey," he said "If we distract them long enough, they may not notice her." And he indicates The Babe with a jerk of his thumb.
Hmm. He may have a point.