The Table.

Sorry, I have gotten a bit carried away. Words you see.

I found this table in a shed somewhere many years ago. I don’t know if it is Oak or Mahogany or if I really care. It is round and actually has signs in the wood of my children doing their Homework. I gave it to my Number One Son once upon a time. But fortunately he didn’t want it so he gave it back to me.

Five decades on the feet have been chewed nearly into indistinction. Every dog I have ever owned had a chew at them. Although funnily enough never O’Connor. Not that I would have minded if he had. I was past caring about this little shit by then. Come and chew the table feet for Christ’s sake, instead of digging up my lovely garden.

It never colours you see. Put a hot cup on it and the mark is brief and then gone tomorrow. There actually isn’t anything anyone could do to spoil this table.

It is normally covered in family rubbish. But just for today it wasn’t. And such a pleasure that was to see.

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