And, in a flash, the age-old mystery of why the living room television never works first thing in the morning has been solved.
For months and months Cat Daddy blamed our cleaning lady. Then, when we entered quarantine and she stopped coming, he started to blame me for “forgetting how to switch it on” (nonsense) and “not pressing the correct buttons on the remote control” (no idea what this even means).
The true perpetrator has just been caught in the act during his Morning Psycho Time, messing about with the wires. And, yes, that is a coven of witches on the television, who are most likely encouraging their little comrade in his dastardly dark arts.
I don’t know why we are even the slightest bit surprised. About the real reason for the non-functioning television, about the witches, about any of this.