Free Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 08 by Love Is a Many Trousered Thing Page B

their children, they shouldn’t have them. I might say that to them. I might say…no hang on a minute I know what will happen then, they WILL start taking an interest in me, just to annoy me.
    Went down to run myself a bath and as I passed Libby’s door I could hear her talking.
    â€œNow then, a bitty lit of lipstick. Mmmmmm.”
    Josh is going to look like a toddler drag queen by the time his mum picks him up. Still, if she bans him from coming round it might save him from something far, far worse.
    As I came out of the bathroom, Vati was coming out of the kitchen. Wearing what he likes to think as “leisure wear.” Essentially jeans anda T-shirt that says, “I’m a grown up. So nananananananana.”
    How pathetico. But I didn’t say anything. He started rambling and moaning, though. He only has to see my head to start complaining.
    â€œGeorgia, you had better not be in that bathroom for the rest of the night, there are other people in this house, you know.”
    I said, “I know, that is what I complain about as well.”
    â€œDon’t be so bloody cheeky. The day you start paying the water bill is the day you can start being cheeky.”
    Oh drone on. Just because as yet I am not the girlfriend of a popstar and a squillionnaire beekeeper backing singer etc., I am picked on by old huge botty. Still, live and let die, is what I say.
    If Mum and Dad were bees, he would be a dead bee by now. And that is not easy to say.
    He hadn’t finished, though. “And feed your bloody cat, it’s attacking my trousers.”
    Who wouldn’t, I thought, but I didn’t say that.
    I turned the bath on and went into the kitchen. When he saw me, Angus shot through the cat flap into the garden. Then he came back in doing hiscomedy coming through the cat flap backward thing and yowling like he hadn’t eaten anything for days. I know that is not true because of the complaints from the neighbors. Mr. Up the Road said that Angus even ate some lard he had put out for the birds. The Prat brothers have to be fed inside now because Angus is so sneaky he can dart out within seconds and gobble down their food. He is like the James Bond of Cat Land—they seek him here, they seek him there, they seek that puddy tat everywhere. I have seen him leap down from the bedroom windowsill unexpectedly, right into the Prat poodles’ food bowl. Or the roof. Or out of the dustbin. You have to admire him, really.
    Owwwwwwwww. Bloody hell, I think he may have eaten my ankle.
    I put Angus’s food in his bowl and he was purring and pushing himself against my legs. Aahhh. Then he sat on the table and just looked.
    I said, “Don’t you want your kitty-cat food?”
    He shut his eyes.
    I went and checked the bath and put in some of Mum’s strictly banned expensive bath oil that she hides in her wardrobe. Honestly, it is so tiring trying to have a bath around this place.
    When I went back into the kitchen, Angus was sitting in his food in the food bowl.
    I don’t know what to say.
    As I was just looking at him and he was looking at me, Gordy came into the kitchen. Fully made up. Honestly. If I didn’t know better I would say that he had false eyelashes on. He was covered in foundation and rouge, and around his eyes were big black rings and some sort of blue stuff. I noticed he had some clip-on earrings on as well. And a bow on his tail.
    I went off into the bathroom.
    The odd thing was, Gordy looked strangely happy.
    Maybe he is a homosexualist cat.
    Angus will disown him.
    in the bathroom
    Aah, at last I can relax and think about myself properly.
    It is amazing how floaty nungas are. I wonder why. Perhaps it is in case of flooding and then girls, who of course are the most important sex, would float to safety.
    It may be a genetic floaty survival thingy.
    two minutes later
    I don’t like to criticize Big G unnecessarily, but it does on the whole seem like a useless