My Mate Sigismund

 I live alone and I'm quite happy about that. Call it being introverted, antisocial or whatever; I find being around people a bit of an effort so when I come home, shut the door and kick my boots off into the corner I never feel particularly bad about my lack of company.

 Then one day I acquired a new friend. 

Meet Sigismund.

Sigismund and his balloon

  Why I suddenly felt the need to acquire a plush chicken I have no idea.  Then again, I do a lot of stuff on impulse so this is not the strangest thing I've ever done on the spur of the moment.  

  As it turns out Sigismund is the perfect flatmate. Makes zero mess, doesn't hog the shower and never argues over what DVD we're watching tonight. 

 He does like Pizza and Tizer though. 

  As it turns out, my two little nieces were quite taken with Sigismund too.  So much so that they tried to kidnap him. 

   Now a good uncle would have let them take his plushie  away with them.  A good uncle would definitely not have demanded the return of his chicken at swordpoint.  ( You know how I said I but stuff on impulse? A wooden Chinese broadsword is one of those things).  

  I'm fairly certain they knew I wasn't serious but I got my chicken back and he's currently sat on my sofa waiting for me to finish this post and put a DVD on.  Time to go, methinks.

 

That's All Folks.