It is my sad duty to report that today could potentially be Spongebob's (or Spongey B as he's been affectionately known as all week in this household) last day with us at Geek Pie.
I know he's only a balloon, but he has bought a certain something to proceedings. He's been a great talking point. We had the gas man come and read our meter the other day. He took one look at Spongey B and asked where our kids were. I looked around, pointed at myself and announced, "Here!" He didn't really say much more after that, but his presumption can be forgiven.
What you have to remember is that being in possession of a pair of boobs, fairly young and living in Hayes, people do expect certain things of you. For instance, once you're my age (21), if you haven't got a troop of at least six kids, with questionable paternal descent and all under the age of nine, you're seen as a bit of a failure.
There's also something about having here an object, that no matter what the hell happens to it, never stops smiling. Waking up in the morning and seeing his smiling face, you can't help but smile back. It's like being out and seeing a Mum with a baby in a pushchair. If the kid smiles at you it would take quite a hard hearted soul not to return the favour.
Also, he's provided Breezy with a nice little outlet for her little rages and strops. She either spends the day moaning at him instead of me (result) or starts beating him about the head with pillows. The latter of the two is not something I'm very happy about and I've not been witness to it, but she told me that's what she does to him when I'm out.
But these good times are coming to an end. His limbs are looking even more wiry than usual, he's losing puff from his wonderfully square arse cheeks and he's finding it difficult to remain stuck to the ceiling. His lifeblood (helium) seems to be seeping away.
Yesterday, I decided that we had to make his last day with us as memorable as possible. I was going to say, " make his last day on Earth as memorable as possible." but he's never been even close to it. That's the beauty of helium.
We've decided we're going to take him to all the places he probably wants to go to, but is unable to ask. He's only a balloon for fuck's sake. It's important because it means his final hours won't be wasted hanging around the lampshade in my room.
So far we've pencilled in a trip to Ruislip Lido (it's just like being at the seaside), a walk around Uxbridge to commerate the first time we met and possibly a train ride somewhere too. Above all, it also gives us an excuse to go on another Geek Pie road trip, of the like the world has never seen, well since the last one.
We'll keep you posted about our progress.