Er... my daughter ate my thesis?

I've never had a dog. (I did have a baby brother though). And never had my homework eaten either nor have I used that excuse to cover up for homework not done. (Who am I kidding. I loved homework.)

But this time Airtel is going to either cut my broadband Internet connection or bombard me with phone call reminders (at all inappropriate moments) to pay my phone bill.
Aha. But WHERE is my phone bill?
It will have to be done.
I will have to call up an Airtel call centre and tell a disbelieving young operator -
Er... my daughter ate up the bill.

I can see the scene already. Five years of hard work, three hundred pages of my thesis, carefully formatted, saved from the clutches of the aggressive excitable paper eating tyrant, only to realise at the last minute, before going before the Review Committee.... horror of horrors, where was that chapter on the body? The third person on the right at the committee table asks me about the missing pages. I gulp. Smile sheepishly.

Er... my daughter ate up Chapter 5.

Oh well.