A little pressie arrived for Claire this morning.
The gift, arranged by yours truly, was delivered by a courier who, instead of ringing the doorbell like a normal person, bashed our door as if they were a police officer executing a raid on a drugs den.
As startled as Claire and I were by the assault on the entrance to our home, Roman was terrified. His fear only escalated when my wife answered the door and collected her surprise – a bouquet of heart-shaped balloons.
There is a saying – “Every day is a school day” – presumably because we learn something new during each 24-hour period. Today I learned that rabbits are petrified of balloons – well, our bunny is.
Roman hated the present I bought for Claire. The balloons were placed in the corner of the front room, slowly moving in the air.
Presumably, in the eyes of our furry little cherub, these strange and scary foreign objects were monsters. Hungry monsters with a taste for rabbit meat.
After a failed attempt to ease Romy’s fears, by moving the floating predators into the kitchen (he spotted them through the windows on the door), calm was restored when they were dragged upstairs to the bedroom.
There is now a significant risk that Claire will trip over the balloons in the dark and end up joining me in the Broken Bones Club; but at least our pet rabbit will be happy…
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