Saturdays are for putting your hand in a bucket of ice, swallowing a mouthful of honey and lemon, and breathing a sigh of relief. All that practice you put into your welcome handshake and 'Here comes trouble!' paid off. Almost every member of the treehouse has been successfully greeted home.
All bar one. But I'll get him. I'll get him good.
Saturdays are for eagerly sitting beside the front door to the Treehouse ready to jump up and greet writers as they return home. Sure, most of the team aren't due back until Monday, but this way I can get really good at saying 'Here comes trouble' in just the right intonation. 'Here comes trouble.' No, that's not it. 'Here comes trouble.' Better, but it still needs work.
After forgetting to change my alarm for the weekend, my Saturday has started far too early. I clearly don't respond well to surprise free time, as I spent the morning writing my will. Disappointingly, Co-op don't let you set challenges and riddles for bequestees. This oversight has dashed the mental image of my brother and sister duelling over my gaming PC, armed with those Gladiators-style padded polearms that look like oversized cotton wool buds.
Saturdays are for trying to befriend the local foxes. There are a bunch living under the hedge by the flat. I saw a big fat fox sitting in the road this week, like a cross between a rising bollard and a garden gnome. I wonder if I can entice them into gathering outside my window with slices of Hovis. Anyway - any weekend plans? Here's what we're clicking on.
Saturdays are for lounging, half-dressed, half-washed, chair tilted back (or better yet, bed unrisen from), staring blearily up at a lovely array of pixels moving about at the command of a pair of thumbs on thumbsticks. Sadly, I'll be moving house instead, but at least I can read the comments section below and live vicariously through all of you, you half-dressed, half-washed bastards.
Now that Halloween has passed us by, I'm looking forward to a more restful weekend. One where I don't need to turn off all the lights and hiss loudly in the dark at any young ruffians that come along to part me with my hard-earned Haribo. I'll need that Haribo for energy soon, as this is the last weekend before I move house. Time to fill it with games!
