It’s Christmas and of course we’ve been eating all day, but for some celebratory reason, we’re always hungry anyway. Come evening, my son-in-law stumbles blearily downstairs, through the living room, and into the kitchen.
“I thought you were taking a nap?” enquires my baby-bouncing daughter.
“I am. I can get something to eat, can’t I?”
Fridge door opens, shuts, man lurches back upstairs to bed.
I nodded to her, “You-know. It’s like the physics cat … he can either be asleep or awake, but you don’t know until you ask him.”