“I just really don’t understand how you’re not just going to get in the way,” I began, feeling the annoyance slip into my voice despite my best efforts. “After all, aren’t you made of ceramic?”
“Ceramic?” The gnome gawped. He was seated on the edge of my sink, but quickly used a nearby towel to grapple down onto the tiles I was cleaning. Anger flashed through his eyes. “I am not made of something so cheap.”
I waved him off absentmindedly. “Look, all you gnomes have done for me is hide my keys and steal my food. I don’t see how you’re going to be helping with the ensuite bathroom renovations.”
The gnome scuttled over to where I was crouched. His feet made a chinking noise across the tiles that would have been adorable if the menace hadn’t made the last two weeks of my life miserable. The amount of things they had hidden from me was laughable.
“We do so much more than just hide your stuff,” the gnome huffed. His pointy hat swayed side to side as he shook his head in disappointment.
“I have already found a great team of experts in bathroom renovations near Sandringham, who can help with my…problem.”
The offending bathtub stood in all of its disgusting glory beside us. I don’t know why I had told the gnome about the gurgling noises or the decaying colour of the tub. It had been a subject of small talk, not something I thought the gnome would get hung up on.
“You don’t need to replace your bathtub or tiles!” The gnome jumped on the spot with a frustrated tap. “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, you have a mermaid problem, not a plumbing repair problem.”
I shook my head. A mermaid problem? Last time I checked, mermaids were not going to fit inside the tiny plumbing system of a bathroom. “You’ve gone mad,” I said.
The irony of talking to a gnome and calling someone else mad was not lost on me. These renovation preparations were really getting to my head.