If I were writing it, I would probably be in the latter group (unless I was in a bad mood that day). Imagine how that pink, porky little family must feel after its hair-raising ordeal. Despite all their protests and talk of chinny-chin-chins, they still had to go through the upheaval of moving house in a hurry. But now they're huddling together by the fire, enjoying the warmth and familiarity, safe and secure within those solid brick walls.
Tomorrow, we are driving back up north to Cheshire to catch up with friends and stay in our old white house for a couple of days. It hasn't been sold yet, and we're going to rent it out for a while. The kids grew up in that house and we poured gallons of time, effort and cash into getting it just as we wanted it. I love our old house.
There'll be no wolves involved this weekend, and probably a fair bit of huffing and puffing when I pack in the morning. But I'm looking forward to us huddling by the fire, enjoying the warmth and familiarity, safe and secure within those solid brick walls.