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Oh Really?
It had to happen eventually.
I was working on my Victorian jacket and was wearing almost the whole outfit, with my hair in a high bun and my reading glasses on.
My dearest darling says I look like Granny. As in Sylvester and Tweety's Granny.
O_o
Well then.
Thinking on my feet for a change, I leaned into the sewing room and grabbed my parasol, then proceeded to (threaten to, anyway) beat him over the head with it, yelling "Bad kitty!".
*Now* I look like Granny. Don't screw with the Little Old Ladies, buster.
He's lucky I don't have access to Alexia Tarabotti's parasol. That might have been messy. ;)
I was working on my Victorian jacket and was wearing almost the whole outfit, with my hair in a high bun and my reading glasses on.
My dearest darling says I look like Granny. As in Sylvester and Tweety's Granny.
O_o
Well then.
Thinking on my feet for a change, I leaned into the sewing room and grabbed my parasol, then proceeded to (threaten to, anyway) beat him over the head with it, yelling "Bad kitty!".
*Now* I look like Granny. Don't screw with the Little Old Ladies, buster.
He's lucky I don't have access to Alexia Tarabotti's parasol. That might have been messy. ;)
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The mental image, however, is HIGH-LARIOUS.
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It was rather amusing.
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I'll tell him you said so. It'll be more fun that way.
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