The Burglar Who Counted The Spoons*

“Boxing was exhausting,” Seb says when he calls last night. “Those teenagers have so much energy and I’d eaten too much spaghetti before I set off and…”
“So what weight division will you be in?” I say.
“I suppose I’ll get leaner so I can be middleweight or…well – I don’t want to bulk up and be heavyweight,” Seb says. “How are you my lovely?”
“I’ve got a couple of exciting things for you,” I say.
“Go on,” Seb says.
“I ordered seasons two, three and four of Mad Men,” I say, “and they’ve arrived and…”
“Excellent,” Seb says. “Look forward to watching that with you, my darling.”
“And,” I say, “I found a tablespoon in the street and he’s been run over by a bus I think and he’s completely flat. He’s gorgeous. You’ll love him.”
“Wow, that is indeed the sort of thing I like,” Seb says.
“He’s in the dishwasher now, to get the bits of road off him,” I say. “You can meet him at the weekend.”
Take that eighteen year olds, I think. I know how to keep my man. He will love Mr Spoon. I know how to please him.

Am at the parentals tonight with the fluffy monster. Had better help Mum make some supper. And then tomorrow will see my Seb. Can’t wait!

The sycamore tree in the photo lives near the parentals.

Happy Thursday everyone!

*2013. By Lawrence Block. Comic mystery novel.

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