I spent most of today at my parents’ house. It was quite pleasant; the usual stresses of their bickering numbed by chronic sleepiness and a general feeling of “I’m feeling ok today” that’s missing for long periods. There was no real reason for me being there, I just fancied hanging out with them, doing nothing but enjoying the growing cantankerousness (if that’s a word) of their advancing years, fighting the losing battle of reason versus parents. Plus, I couldn’t be bothered cooking and the lamb stew my mum was planning on preparing appealed to me.

The little dog was with me. He likes the attention his adopted grandparents give him, but not quite as much as the pizza, pudding and biscuits they treat him with. The fee of a spectacular high-five performance on his part is little price to pay for junk food and cuddles.

My parents, the family, have always been cat people. Cats have been part of our lives since I was a young child. Only one feline family member remains today: Otto the one-eyed pyjama case. He’s very shy. I’d never realised this when I lived at home, but since moving out, I noticed how he’d run and hide when an unfamiliar voice came into the house. Needless to say, when Rocky announces his presence at the back door with much howling and barking, Otto scarpers.

And so this was the pattern for our visits there for the past five years… until recently. A few months ago, Otto developed a “stuff you, you insane bag of fur” attitude, resulting in him hanging around, in pyjama case mode on Mum’s knee, whenever I call round there. And Rocky is terrified of him, to the point that the little dog has developed owl-like head movements so he can keep track of the cat whenever he’s there.

So that’s good.

Tomorrow I’m back in the office. It’s a nice enough job that pays OK, but I’d much rather just hang out and absorb the insanity and comfort of my parents and animals. Tomorrow, I shall allow myself to be wound up by people queue jumping in the traffic jam to work, the mental assault by e-mail, and idiots using the lift to travel just one floor – all the time thinking about my Friday evening meal and the impending visit of the lovely April…