My husband thinks he’s joined MI5 or something, ever since we got the hen-cam. It’s helpful enough for him when I’m working away from home and he can keep an eye on the poultry comings and goings in our garden from his workplace, but when I AM home, I often have to ignore them pecking at the catflap or whatever, as I’m on a zoom call or something. I have to concentrate.
So, I resent getting sudden messages such as this one that just appeared on my phone:
“YOU NEED TO GET THE WASHING IN. IT’S RAINING HARD, WASHING HAS FALLEN DOWN AND IS FLAPPING ALL OVER THE PLACE.”
I replied;
“YOU NEED TO STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO. AND NOW *YOUR* HENS’ CRAP IS ALL OVER ‘MY’ WASHING AND I HAVE TO DO IT ALL AGAIN!”
And then I ran out to the garden in the rain, grabbed up the washing and stood for ages giving the camera the V’s.
Immature? Moi?