No – all you very dirty minded readers, who have inevitably been to Thaliand and seen such that yeah, you can never quite ever forget - it's not THAT kind of Ping Pong Pussy.
Instead a short note to self, somewhere along the lines of:
'Never let Hawksey leave 4 unattended ping pong balls on the floor under our bed in the dead of night, when Mojo might suddenly discover them and realise that if she chases and flicks them against the skirting boards long enough, her mug of a Mummy will eventually get up and give her breakfast far earlier than she wanted to, having run a two day workshop and being rather keen on a Saturday morning lie-in, but now instead findinger herself in the kitchen before the heating comes on.'
And with Hawksey, finally awake as I eventually return with two cups of tea, having also fed and 'crapped' the dog, somehow inexplicably lamenting me putting said ping pong balls in the bin 'oh but Mojo really likes playing with those'.. No shit, Mr 'Sleep-through-anything' Sherlock.
Lesson learned. Cat fed – one nil to Mojo.
Sigh. x