Monkey Boy was invited for a sleepover at a school friend’s house.
Godzilla decided he was going. Given he got a week in Thailand on his insistence last time, he gave this one a good go.
He got dressed and packed his “sleepover” bag. Not any specific bag. Just the first one he got his hands on. Friend and mum arrive to pick Monkey Boy up. Godzilla opened the door for them, and informed them, confidently, that he was going along, too.
No, they attempted to explain. Good luck. I’d been trying for five hours. He didn’t tell them like he did me.
He did his “other” thing. Where he collapsed onto the floor, crying. And he has a cry, in these instances, that could melt the heart of Osama Bin Laden. And a heart was melted.
“I’m sorry, ” says the Mum. “I’m really sorry.”
We reassured her all was fine, and this was standard fare. But Godzilla had one over us – he has perfected a Look. Where, between his heart-breaking shreiks, he glances up, sad puppy dog face,