I made a bear. Granted, he looks more like a drowned ferret, but I made him. Yes, I did.
He has a serious attitude problem. He thinks he owns the place. He’s so laid back he’s almost in a coma. And when you try to talk to him he just shrugs his shoulders and says, ‘whatever’.
We’ve had words. He’s not bothered. He’s waiting for me to make him some clothes, a quilt and a one-way ticket out of this dump. He can’t wait to be put in the shop so he can blow this popstand and go to a real house.
I can’t wait to get rid of him. He’s nothing but a nuisance with his diva-like demands, his surly behaviour and his passive aggression.
As soon as I’ve made him a few things to dress up in, he’s history.
Did you hear that? …. whatever…