I issue this statement under no compulsion. Mmh.
It has come to my attention, as it has come, I gather, to the attention of the entire household, that the kitchen bin was, at approximately 11:40 this morning, no longer upright. The contents of the bin were, by 11:41, distributed across the floor with what one would have to call enthusiasm.
I should like to make several things clear.
One. I was, at 11:40 and indeed at 11:41, lying on the rug in the front room. This is a matter of public record. The Woman's mother, who was visiting, will confirm it — though we are not, at present, on speaking terms regarding an unrelated matter.
Two. I am, at my age, incapable of climbing. I am also incapable of nudging, prising, levering, or otherwise destabilising a bin. The mechanics are simply not in my repertoire any longer. I do not say this with sadness. I say it as a fact.
Three. There is, in this household, a small dog of considerable enthusiasm and limited self-control. I do not say her name. I do not need to.
Four. Harvey is also a dog of this household, which I mention only in the interest of completeness. Harvey was, at the relevant time, on the porch, watching something. He always is. I shall be saying nothing further about Harvey. He is a sweet boy.
Five. The Bald Man laughed when he saw it, which is, as Winnie has explained at great length elsewhere on this website, a kind of household indemnity. I do not endorse this doctrine. I merely note that it has, once again, been invoked.
I have nothing further to add. I shall be returning to the rug. Mmh.