Goodbye Sidney?

Today I woke bright and early to a rather nice sunny day. I pulled on my dressing gown and went downstairs for my morning cup of tea and a glance at the mornings newspaper which had been unceremoniously crammed through my letter box.

Upon entering the kitchen however, I was met with a sight that was far from conducive for my early morning sojourn with tea and news.

The cupboard where the Gnomes had been residing in their bijou jam jars was open. There was rice everywhere from a packet that looked as though it had been split on purpose and the jam jars were smashed to pieces. How I didn't hear any of the commotion that this act of vandalism and rampant destruction would have caused I do not know and can only put my apparent deafness down to the fact that I sleep with ear plugs in, in a pathetic attempt to ward off the noise of the car down the road spluttering into life each morning.

More importantly though, was the disappearance of the Gnomes themselves.

I pulled out packets of lentils and pearl barley, shifted jars of Horlicks and honey but there was no sign of any of them.

It was then that I noticed Sidney. Usually he is to be found rubbing around my legs waiting for his breakfast, purring so loudly it makes me smile as I ignore him and concentrate on my own needs first. But this morning he wasn't actually capable of rubbing around my legs or indeed purring.

It was the way the microwave had started to move slightly that had drawn my attention away from my search for the Gnomes. I stood up and was surprised to find Sidney staring at me through the glass of the door, his little mouth covered with some sort of tape and his four legs and tail trussed up with string. I was reaching out for the door when his instant look of horror and rapid eye movements towards the door handle drew my attention away from his stickered face to the side of the microwave.

Some sort of contraption had been contrived so that if I attempted to open the door of the microwave the small toffee hammer I usually keep in one of the drawers for Christmas, would fall down onto the 'Quick Cook' button and that would be the end of Sidney.

As I stood pondering the predicament I noticed a small note taped to the 'Defrost' button.

It read 'Wait for further instructions.'

Which is why I am now sitting here writing this and Sidney is still in the microwave. I am waiting for further instructions which as yet, have failed to arrive. The waiting itself has, quite frankly, disrupted my breakfast time in such a way that I have only just managed to force down my fourth cup of tea and fifth slice of toast, but nevertheless, I will wait and see what the rest of the day brings with it.