The great white hunter has struck again.
The mirror in the bath still thick with fog and damp towels hung to dry. Bare feet on carpet with nothing else but a birthday suit. And company, oh the company, trotting in proud as punch, followed by the second and third manner of beasts (eager to participate in the excitement), with a squealing, wriggling, slightly damaged gopher.
And I'm here to say:
Stark Naked + Gopher Running through the Bedroom - One Husband = A stream of language that would make your grandma blush.
I'm a proud kitty mamma, but next time, Sing-sing, make sure he's dead, ok?