Friday, 18 May 2012

And our new treats are...

Nothing. Nadda. Zip. Diddly squat. The cupboard is bare, the online shopping basket is unused.

Not even a whiff of a carrot stick to brighten our evenings.

I remember days of plenty with tuna bread (homemade!) or bright red pilchard bread (so incredibly smelly!), peanut butter biscuits and delicious crunchy fish skin rolls (bought by the massive box full!).

The comforting ritual of the nightly retreat up to the flat after a busy rewarding day and a hard working session meeting and greeting in the pub. The rustling of the fish treat bag, or the ripely overflowing bowl of tuna bread, lovingly torn into chunks for our eager consumption.

The drawn out distribution, each piece savoured and remembered. The hankering looks for 'just one more piece'. The dopey smile on mum's face as she dips her hand back into the treat bowl...sigh. Finally, full tummies (well, obviously I could always fit in more, but I don't want to appear grasping), much licking of under carriages, and curling up on a stinky piece of laundry until bedtime.

What finer times could a spaniel live through? Incomparable to the cold comfort farm of our current existence.

So it is with both regret and steely determination that I announce my new campaign.

What do we want?
When do we want them?

**Especially before bedtime, but also:

  •  in the morning if we are having a late walk and will therefore not be fed any time soon (another sore point), 
  • whenever we go to the pub (a different pub, not our pub, I'm not stupid enough to think that will work!), 
  • whenever we are out on expeditionary walks, 
  • at every rest point during our triathlon training events, 
  • whenever we feel weak from lack of food and need a pick-me-up (to be determined by us not parents),
  • other times according to individual circumstances.
Waddya reckon?

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