Scene: One of many cold winter evenings. The woman has switched on the electric blanket an hour before bedtime, and as the couple enter the room to go to bed, find Banjo stretched out on the duvet, taking up a full third of the space available and purring loudly. The man says fondly “Isn’t it wonderful the way Banjo loves to sleep with us at night?”
Translation: Isn’t it wonderful to sleep on a lovely, soft, warm duvet? Just as long as they keep out of my way every time they turn over...
-oOo-
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