It's not what you think. (At least, I hope to God it's not).
The Father of This Lot is most definitely an animal person. So it was he who was despatched to the pet shop with The Noise on Saturday morning in search of a nice, fluffy, baby rabbit. The Fixer and The Peacemaker were at a loose end and accompanied them.
I knew things had not gone to plan when the Father of This Lot burst through the door sometime later, trailed by various children with a box displaying the legend 'PORT-A-PET'.
Him: Seventy quid that's just cost me!
Me: FOR A RABBIT???
Him: No. Not for one rabbit. For three rabbits, bedding, a bag of rabbit food and a *@&*ing hutch.
Me: Three rabbits?
Them: Look Mum - we all got one!
And before I knew what had happened, there were three baby rabbits running around the living room floor. I admit to feeling rather queasy at this point and can't actually remember whether I stood on a chair shouting 'Get them out!' or words to that effect.
I rabbit-proofed the kitchen by means of an upturned chair and a broom handle and made a cup of tea.
Photographs by The Peacemaker
Him: What I can't understand about this lot is, when it's somebody's birthday, everybody gets a present.
What I thought was: Well which idiot stood in the pet shop and agreed to it? I'd have pointed out it was The Noise's birthday and made sure nobody else got anything. No whining, no complaining. Home.
What I said was: 'Well, that just shows what a nice, kind Dad you are, doesn't it?'
What I then thought was: Don't come crying to me mate, on the next birthday, when you've got to cough up for five presents. You're on your own.