A hungry, hungry munkiepillar

This is Mr nuts new book. Really there is a little caterpillary finger pupper to poke through. Mr Mut liked it lots.
'kiss the caterpillar' I say
He carefully squats down and kisses him
then, to be extra sure, he kisses him again, which makes me feel a bit jealous; 'kiss me!' I say. He looks at me like I am a madwoman and walks off.

I thought I would celebrate the tinymunkie after yesterdays near miss. In case you don't know the details, we were driving off after a day at Glastonbury when I remembered I had entrusted the care of my munkie to The Nut. Brief discussions as to his whereabouts revealed neither Jim nor I had put munkie in the car. Munkie was losted.

I assume a pose much like the one described here though I am not dressed like an impressionist artist, sadly. 'He is gone forever' I cry. I put a brave face on and think of an empty future without tinymunkie, only softened but the thought of all the other tinymunkies I own.

'We'll go back' says Jim 'Where did you last see him?' I answered this very well, because I last saw him when I was distracted from guarding him from being dropped by a painting of some moomins. I didn't hold up any hope; a fine specimen like munkie would surely have been abducted hippies, who would take off his shirt and make him smoke dope.

Driving down the moomin road, I could see him lying forlornly and face down on the pavement. Jim documented my neglect by taking a photo of the sad scene, which caused a lady in the flat above to ask what it was we were photographing. She didn't look impressed at the answer either.

Then we all went home and lived happily ever after, despite being very tired the next day. Especially those of us who went for a swim.