Brush with disaster

I have been a slack Plogger.  Apologies.  We have been experiencing the joy of having a new kitchen fitted.  This was a task that was supposed to take two days, but actually took about a week, and involved a kitchen fitter who "didn't like" following the plan we'd carefully agreed on, and decided to fit the sink where he thought it looked best.  It was joyous.

Last weekend was lovely.  My university friends came to visit en masse (to help us test out our new kitchen).  TheBloke (TM) and I had a good clear up of the house before they came over.

"TheBloke (TM)?" I called out.

"Yes," he said.

"Why have you left a paintbrush in the middle of our lawn?"

"I haven't," he asserted.  This was clearly a lie.  Because there was a big old paintbrush in the middle of our lawn.  I decided I'd go back to worrying about why the sink was in the wrong place.

A day later we heard a loud thunk.  "What was that?" TheBloke (TM) wondered, as the cat thundered through his cat flap.

We didn't have to wait long to find out.  We are clearly the owners of the most stupid cat in the world.  Despite never yet having killed anything larger than a small spider (and if we're being truly honest about that one spider incident - he stepped on it accidentally and then looked as mortified as a big ginger kitten can), he appears to think he's Paintbrush Hunter Supreme.

Not only had he gone in to a neighbour's garden to steal the paintbrush (indeed, the paintbrush wasn't ours), but had managed to jump up onto a fence, jump up from the fence to our conservatory, and then through the upstairs window, all carrying a paintbrush.  Which he then proudly deposited at TheBloke (TM)'s feet.  And this is a big old paintbrush.

Idiot cat.  He's clearly hinting that the new kitchen could do with some redecoration.