The cat in this instance being the Greek God(zilla), who was away in Cyprus with his parents last week.
I was about to insert a lame joke about him having a holiday while I slaved away at home, but then I remembered my own little trip to NYC last month and quit while I was ahead.
I only half-sleep whenever he goes away, what with one ear always listening out for intruders and one eye always on the lookout for the bogey man.
In fact the only play this mouse did, was on a couple of episodes of Scandal while tucked up safely in bed, with the light on, at 8.30pm.
As you can imagine, it was quite a relief when the Greek God(zilla) returned home and life could return to normal.
Being Friday and all, I cleared our diary, cued up Breaking Bad on Netflix, and starved myself all day in preparation for steak night.
However, there was only one thing my husband was in the mood for when he got home.
He left the office early and skipped home, whistling all the way.
Bedtime stories were a bit more hurried, so eager was he to be reunited with his favourite pasttime.
When our son was nicely tucked in and sleeping soundly, he tiptoed back downstairs and rubbed his hands in glee.
‘Where is it, love?’ he asked excitedly.
I handed over a slip of folded white paper and threw in a hefty eye roll for good measure.
‘I’m really going to enjoy this’ he said as he popped it into his top pocket, picked up his car keys, and zoomed off to his happy place.