I Heart Kitty

Kitty is nothing if not entertaining, which for prolonged periods of time can be a little wearing, on the whole though we are going through some good times at the moment. I have convinced her that enduring the slob that is her elder sister is good practise for when she has to make compromises as she gets older. She of course gets the sucker end of this deal whereas Daisy just gets;

• her own way
• access to the unlimited funds of 'Bank of Kitty'
• a stylist
• a tidy room
• and on many occasions her school bag prepared for her in the morning.

Kitty of course has EVERYTHING ready the night before, leaving her time to walk the dog and watch some television.
Daisy left me speechless last week having paid Kitty a derisory £4 to clear the slum that is her bedroom at her nan's so she could entertain her new beau. (Kitty even changed the sheets and hoovered before styling the junk into some semblance of a bedroom as opposed to a doss house.)
She then borrowed £10 to pay back a friend and then... asked whether I had paid Kitty back the money SHE had borrowed!

Daisy has taken to staying at a friends house Monday nights to rehearse a piece of improvisation, I am of course living the dream at The Slade, so I returned home to a shoe cupboard transformed into a heaven of order and logic as opposed to the 5 feet shoe mountain that I have to use my arse to shut the door on.
Kitty had then cleaned the bathroom, and tidied every one of her draws removing the flotsam and jetsum that what too small.
Leyla scooped up the lot!

Kitty is available for a small fee of which of course I will take a commission of!

One of the reasons she does this is that it acts as a kind of therapy, the other reason is she is sooo happy because the huge looming cloud called Work Experience has lifted. I and my sister had tried to get her a place somewhere that befitted her rather snobby attitude to what construed work, sadly we failed. But her school came up trumps and gave her a placement at Oasis in Canary Wharf. She was over the moon, nice shop, posh place, not the expected "Skanky high street"
I was recently in Canary Wharf, Emin in his infinite wisdom thought it would be a nice place to go for a coffee whilst I was supposed to be resting, we arrived during the lunch break a scene not dissimilar to the one you get if you pour boiling water down an ants nest.
Wading through a sea of teeny, tiny, little girls all looking lovely in their tribal uniform of short black skirt, top, camel cashmere cardie and Chanel pumps, whilst I looked like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man which did not really have the desired recuperative effect.
I slunk home cursing, but Kitty will fit in perfectly.