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Sunday, April 18, 2004

I gave Chloe (my cat) her annual bath last night. Well, shower - she's too modern for baths. It's remarkable just how much water you can wring out of one tail. But that Kitten Shampoo (the feline equivalent of Johnson's Baby) is marvellous stuff. It's like stroking a cloud this morning.

Anyhoo, just to elucidate on fact number 89, may I say that I was there as a friend only. Fact 63 also has some relevance here. It was 1990 and Emmie (the Melee of her day) had spent a night with the object of her affections - so naturally was in tears. And just as naturally, being a bloke, he wanted nothing to do with her the following day. So as usual, asexual Phil was left to pick up the pieces. Which involved walking out of school and escorting the damsel in distress down to Great Oaks, where I sat for 20 minutes in the waiting room of a family planning clinic, holding the hand of a girl in tears. I do wonder what people thought. Actually, judging from some of the dirty looks I received, I think I can guess.

Handing over the magic pills, the doctor assured her that they should do the trick, to which Em replied "I'll keep my fingers crossed". Whereupon, with the speed of a trained comedian, the doc came back with "Yes, and your legs". Which did make me laugh. Inwardly anyway. I was too tactful to show my amusement, especially when I realised Em was actually very offended by that comment. So I agreed it was outrageous and he should be struck off.

Rather than return to school, we chose to walk back to Em's house and watch 'Pretty in Pink' on video, at which point Em admitted she'd never been able to swallow tablets. Cue slight panic, lots of coaching on my part, and eventual disappearance of pill amidst copious amounts of water. After which we were able to relax while Em lusted after Jon Cryer, and I decided I fancied Molly Ringwald.

When I left, Emmie said "Well at least you'll have something to write in your diary tonight". By which I'm sure she meant that I have her permission to write about her in a public blog fourteen years later.

And may I say, that's the only time I ever missed school without my parents' knowledge. I was such a gooood boy. No, really.