The cremated remains of the ironing board cover lay in mute accusation.
She cried “... but I turned it off.”
The culprit lay on her back, licking her paws in a nonchalant way. Only she knew a careless paw had caught the antiquated socket switch. Those ‘oh so chic, brass sockets’ had proved why they were largely obsolete. The ball shaped ending to the switch caught neatly between sliding toe and pad.
The culprit had no idea of the carnage she had so nearly caused.
It was fortunate that the achingly gorgeous chintz cover had disguised a boring metal board.