How my Husband and I Terrified a Taxi Driver

My husband and I were dressed and ready to go out for a lovely evening of dinner and theatre.
Having been burgled in the past, we turned on a ‘night light’ and the answering machine, then put the cat in the backyard.

When our cab arrived, we walked out our front door and our rather tubby cat scooted between our legs inside, then ran up the stairs. Because our cat likes to chase our budgie we really didn’t want to leave them un-chaperoned so my husband ran inside to retrieve her and put her in the back yard again.

I didn’t want the taxi driver to know our house was going to be empty all evening, so I explained to him that my husband would be out momentarily as he was just bidding goodnight to my mother.
A few minutes later my husband got into the cab all hot and bothered, and said (to my growing horror and amusement) as the cab pulled away:

“Sorry it took so long but the stupid bitch was hiding under the bed and I had to poke her ass with a coat hanger to get her to come out! She tried to take off so I grabbed her by the neck and wrapped her in a blanket so she wouldn’t scratch me like she did last time. But it worked! I hauled her fat arse down the stairs and threw her into the backyard… she had better not shit in the vegetable garden again.”

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