Bunny Biscuits

My Dear Princess and Dear Friends,

My birthday continues.

Today Loulou and Tiger came over with a lovely card and a thoughtful present. Namely: a packet of butterscotch treats and fish and chips.

We love Loulou and Tiger. 

And I never remember their stories which frustrates me. They come so thick and fast and funny. But tonight I tried to insert a mental bookmark if you will, for Loulou's top two stories of the night. 

The F*cking Rabbit
Loulou was disappointed with herself. She is studying archaeology at present - namely early prehistory. She wrote a paper which was well-received but holds herself to high standards and was TORMENTED by a bunny rabbit. 

This was a question on the test: Which artefact would be most significant to encounter in a dig?

- A stick
- A shard of pottery
- The skeleton of a rabbit

Loulou chose the rabbit. Her reasoning made perfect sense. The rabbit has a short life-span and therefore carbon dating the skeleton could yield information about the site.

"One thing," sighed Loulou. "I forgot rabbits can burrow."

So she got that one wrong. "BADLY wrong," Loulou repeated downcast. She seemed to be taking this really badly. 

"I mean," she said. "It's a learning experience. And my reasoning seemed sound. And you learn from your mistakes. And I'll know for next time. But. A f*cking rabbit."

"All night long she was like this," explained Tiger. "I'll learn from this, but a f*cking rabbit. It's not the end of the world but a f*cking rabbit. I shouldn't be too down on myself but that rabbit is a c*nt."

"F*cking rabbit," agreed Loulou.

It's a Code Ron!
"I don't even know if I should tell you this," began Loulou.

"This is NOT for the blog," Caro said, looking at me pointedly.

"Oh no... I suppose it's all right... It's just that..." said Loulou. 

I shall take that as permission to write about this.

So Loulou just got back from a road trip, and returned on Wednesday. She had a nice dinner with Tiger and then started to feel really odd. 

"I'd had a migraine the previous night and I thought it might be coming back," she said. "But I felt really spaced out and weird."

"I feel like I've ingested marijuana," she told Tiger. "Isn't that weird? Are you ok?" 

Tiger felt perfectly ok. 

Loulou decided the best thing to do would be to go to bed and allow the headache to take its course.

The next day Loulou had a really dry mouth and hadn't slept very well. Tiger went into town for work, leaving Loulou working from home. She had a salad for lunch and then...

"It happened AGAIN, I started feeling REALLY high," she said. She called Tiger.

"I REALLY feel like I've ingested marijuana," she insisted. 

"Okay, retrace your steps. What did you eat?" he asked.

"Only a salad!" she wailed. "I'm freaking out! I've got a meeting in ten minutes!"

"Just a salad!" she insisted. 

"Oh," she added.

"Oh?" he asked.

"I found some biscuits and fudge in the fridge," she admitted. "I think they were gluten-free. They tasted funny."

"Oh," said Tiger.

"Did they have something in them?" asked Loulou.

"How many did you have?" he asked. 

"Two or three, and a couple of pieces of fudge," she replied. "Did they come from Robbie?"

"It's worse than you think," he replied. "They came from RON."

"Oh," said Loulou.

So Ron is hardcore. You want to eat MAYBE half of one of his cookies or just nibble a corner of his fudge. Explained Tiger.

"And I'd been chowing DOWN on these things, as I walked around the cottage," said Loulou. "Like aaaaaarrggle aaaaargggle aaaaaarrrgggle."

"And the words, 'it's worse than you think," are the LAST words you need to hear when you are already panicking," emphasised Loulou.

Loulou tried not to freak out. She hastily cancelled the meeting because she was "ill". 

"Then I reckoned I had about ten minutes to feed the cat and start the fire before I became insensible," she said. 

And then that was it. She spent the rest of the evening recumbent on the couch. Finally she ROLLED off the couch and crawled - literally - to the bedroom on her hands and knees. 

"The cat was loving it," Loulou revealed. "She sat on me for six hours on the couch, then twelve hours in bed."

Apparently even the next day was a bit of a right off. "I started to wonder if this is just me now," said Loulou. "But at least I knew what it was. When I first had the feeling I was worried it might be a stroke."

"It was a Code Ron," said Caro. 

Loulou's stories had carried us through the evening and I thought everyone deserved a Milo. And a birthday cupcake. 

I reassured everyone that cake was ALL it was. 

"Aaaaaargggle aaaarrrrgggle aaaaarrrgle," said Loulou, eating hers with aplomb.

I'm glad she's back.

S.