One of our dearest friends visited us at the weekend. He follows Le Blog but, somehow, I never remember this. So, when we meet, I update him on the various twists and turns of Catorzian goings-on, only for him to remind me that he already knows.
Cat Daddy: “She does embellish things in the blog, though.”
Me: “Really? Name me one thing that I’ve embellished?”
Him: “Well, you make me out to be a complete shit, for a start.”
[Silence, tumbleweed, crickets.]
Our friend: “I kinda guessed that some parts were embellished. All that stuff about the boys supposedly ostracising you in your own home …”
Me: “THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENS! OH MY GOD, YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS MADE UP?”
I caught Cat Daddy’s eye, hoping that that brief moment would be enough time for me cast him my “If you lie about this, I will finish you” look (and for him to register that I had done so).
It was.
Cat Daddy: “Erm … ahem … yeah, to be fair, that does actually happen.”
Louis Catorze, who was on my lap at the time, illustrated this point perfectly by leaving me and going to Cat Daddy’s lap as soon as he sat down. But, of course, there was a price to pay for the pair of them backing me up and actually NOT making me look like a liar, for once: this move meant that Cat Daddy was TUC all evening, so I had to keep getting up to bring him wine.
Boys’ Club is in session right now as I write. And don’t be fooled by Catorze’s healthy appearance; his mysterious, crop-circley bald patch is still there, hidden by the fold of his shoulder:
louiscatorze.com 
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