for want of a cuttlefish

Whilst we've been careful to keep things like mugs and phones far enough back on the sofa's arms to be out of reach of the wingpiglet's and have started to remember to move the box of tissues to a different bit of the back of the sofa when he acts like he wants to be picked up for a cuddle when he really wants to be picked up so that he can lunge over our shoulders towards the box of tissues and grab a handful, we neglected to anticipate any damage other than dampness when he was using his mouth to steady himself on the sofa's arm's corner whilst changing handholds or reaching for something. He's already chiselled a few grooves onto the headboard of the bed so it's odd that something as soft as a sofa cover should appeal, though perhaps it possesses some of the squeaky-between-the-teeth qualities which draw him to try to chew some of his woollen blankets and jumpers.

***

I still didn't feel entirely normal for most of the day and backed out of my plan to try something restorative like soup for lunch but completed a strength-and-balance-requiring task when I got home and ate an almost normal-sized portion of vegetable-based stuff. Another relatively uninterrupted sleep ought to result in more improvement tomorrow, though I'm still slightly repulsed by the idea of making a flask of coffee to take to work or having something to eat before leaving the house.