Watching paint dry

Great show yesterday kid. I watched in awe and wonder as Tommy my cat made an omelet without breaking eggs. Tommy turned to me and said,
"So, Radio Foyle have got the painters in. I would hazard a guess that would be "Rembrandt and Van Gogh, painters and decorators from Sunset Boulevard, Artigarvan."
"A very reputable firm," I said. "They painted my dead daddy to give him the appearance of health and vitality during his wake."
"And a very good job they did," said Tommy. "Did not the undertaker insist on shooting your dead daddy before burying him?"
"He did," I said. "The undertaker looked at dearest mummy and said,
"Missus widow, I am loathe to bury a man who is the picture of health. May I?"
and he pulled out a colt 45.
"By all means," said dear Mummy. "Try and hit him between the eyes. He would have liked that."
"What I don't understand," said Tommy, looking out the window at the ladies of the harem of the court of King Caractacus who were just passing by, "what puzzles and perplexes ME is why Emma, a woman of the greatest sensibilities is upstairs with the painters. Does the adorable doat have a perversity for watching paint dry?"
"Emma is making cups of tea" I said.
"You know what painters are like. When Michelangelo was painting the roof of the Sistine chapel. The Pope had to keep the kettle on the boil and a big box of Punjana tea bags behind the papal throne.".
"The things you learn when you're making an omelet," said Tommy. Tommy deftly slid an omelet onto my plate and said,
"Tuck in."
I exploded. My face turned red. My eyes bulged and my blood boiled.
"I am NOT a blanket!" I yelled. "I will NOT tuck in. Only a blanket tucks in. I am a human being with 27 brain cells. I will eat the omelet, but I will NOT tuck into the omelet."
Tommy broke the plate over my head and cried,
"Wear it as a hat then, you thran, twisted, gnarled and ugly, vile, repulsive, old bag!"
I sat there in silence muttering,
"Bless me faddah for I have sinned."
I looked out the back window. The wheelie bin was staring in with its mouth open.
"You're a better man than me wheelie bin!" I yelled, as I ran upstairs to don my hair shirt and flagellate myself.
I like a good flagellation every now and then! A good flagellation is hard to beat!.