"We thought this was a real quiet and educated town... and then this happened."

My sister has learnt to do owl calls with her hands (I dunno... I could never do it) which turned out to be hilarious after a solid 24 hours of mating calls.

Yesterday when I was lying on my sofa weeping for humanity recuperating from work, my sister came in looking very high and mighty and announced to everyone that she knew the difference between male and female Teat Owls and bet you don't know, Nicole.

"Teat Owls?" My mum said slowly. I snort. "I think you've been conned, Cleo."

Could not stop laughing.

"Hate you break it to you, Cleo... But tea towels aren't a form of owl. At all. Ever. That's the oldest joke in the book apart from- Oh! Cleo! Someone wrote GULLIBLE on the ceiling!"

She went apeshit. She stormed off into the kitchen and emerged ten minutes later when me and my mum were mid-discussion about the primal habitat of turtle-neck sweaters and said she'd found a Teat Owl in the kitchen.

This is what we found:



I'm gonna call him... Arnie.