Bobs and I were chatting today and he mentioned that he’d booked a holiday cabin near Lithgow that would allow them to bring the dog. This was apropos of the spookiness of almost immediately afterward receiving an email from his pet insurer about preparing your dog for travel.
I was more interested in the holiday-cabin-near-Lithgow part of the tale and asked him to back up a bit.
Me: “Where are you staying?”
Bobs: “Some place, I think the name starts with [redacted].”
Me: “It’s not [redacted] is it?”
Bobs: “That sounds right. It’s near … the name is something-[redacted] in it.”
Bobs: (looks at phone) … “Yes, [redacted] and [redacted]”.
Me (slightly horrified) “ermm … and what dates would you be staying there?”
Bobs: “25th, 26th, 27th”
Me (even more horrified): “and ah … what month is this?”
And that’s how I came to learn that Bobs and family will be staying at the same very obscure little holiday location as we’ve booked for my birthday – but exactly a month later.