Earlier today I completed a shit kit, known in some quarters as a ‘bowel cancer screening test kit’.
I have been conflicted about in which column of the life accounting system I run in my head this activity belongs. I’d been of the opinion for some time that it was in the minus column, listed as, an indignity of old age. On consideration, I’ve moved it into the plus column, listed as, no need to die of bowel cancer because you can’t bear to put your pooh in the post.
I’m feeling very grown up.
Considering my age it’s surprising how rarely this happens.
I imagine there are very few people who would wish for the obvious accompanying illustration, so instead, seeing as it was St. David’s day this last week, here’s a daffodil.
fat tart 