Reg is now SERIOUSLY filthy.
I have nowhere to clean him and I'm deeply ashamed. Even the muddy MTBs on my commute are cleaner and I feel wretched.
Every time I look at him I'm wracked with guilt but what am I meant to do?
I'm now considering heading down to a petrol station near me armed with my bike stuff. 'A petrol station?!' I hear you cry but yes. Because the one I'm thinking of has a pressure washer. What I need is water with force behind it and I need it now!
In other news I was off on Friday as I felt so unwell so I ended up on the sofa with my darling bebes most of the day.
How wonderful it must be to be one of my cats. Mr Handsome lay sprawled across me most of the day, while The Fat One visited sporadically to rub her head against my hands and mew in a pathetic way while strutting around like she owned the place.
Who am I kidding? She does own the place.