The Elephant in the Blog

I've always wanted an elephant. I thought they'd make great pets.  If my garden were bigger and had a watering hole I thought I'd definitely have a pet elephant.  I'd call him Bill and feed him peanuts.  I would never give him baked products because they are bad for elephants despite their constant bleating of, "Gissa bun."

I thought that having an elephant would be fun.

I was wrong.

Bill is here now.  He is sitting on this blog being all grey and elephanty and stopping me writing anything. Whenever I try to do something, or write something, or think something Bill throws peanut shells at me and shouts, "What about me?" It's very hard to ignore an elephant jumping up and down in the corner of your blog wearing a fancy hat and tooting a party blower.  The feather on the end keeps tickling my nose and I have to stop typing to scratch it.

"You could just write about me," he suggests helpfully.
I've told him that I'm not going to and so he should just be quiet and go away. He has refused to go away.
"You'll have to notice me sooner or later, " he trumpets loudly in my ear.
I've told him that I know he's there but I'm not going to tell everyone else about him. Elephants produce an awful lot of poop and I don't think it's fair to share that around.
He concedes that his stools are rather large and smelly but he doesn't care.  He just wants to be noticed.

So here is a picture of an elephant.

I'm off to make some apple/caramel buns. (It's caramel week on Bake Off). I wonder how many Bill would like?