Originally written in 2016
This is the look I get when I come home late and Graeme forgets to feed the guinea pigs.
No squealing.
No dramatic protest.
Just… staring. 
One by one, they position themselves somewhere I’m guaranteed to notice them.
At the entrance.
Under the shelter.
Peeking out from a corner.
And every face seems to be saying exactly the same thing:
“Excuse me. Do you know what time it is?”
Apparently, there is no need for words when you have mastered the art of guilt.
And of course, the moment I see those faces, I know exactly what has happened.
Graeme forgot.
Again. 
So I go and get their food while they continue looking at me as though I personally abandoned them for three days instead of arriving home slightly late.
Very effective little creatures.
Stories Along the Way 