Lunch time. I found myself at South Bank and decided to buy fried rice. It came with salad on top. SALAD. On fried rice. There was mayonnaise and all. On the fried rice. Seriously. I ate the rice. I left the salad. The noisy miners hovered and helped themselves to the greens, yet more proof that I never eat like a bird. I walked home. Margaret was sitting at the window watching the street. The birds were hovering. It turns out she wasn't big on her greens either. The meal delivered by Meals on Wheels included broccoli. Margaret suspects Meals on Meals has a deal with a broccoli supplier as just about every meal has broccoli on it. Like President Bush in 1990, Margaret has declared that she will never eat broccoli. She throws it out the window. Funnily enough that's exactly what my younger sister Lisa did with her peas for years. She would smuggle them from the table in her pocket and tip them from the window. My mother only found out when she fessed up years later. As there was never a pile of peas under the window at our place, nor a broccoli heap at Margaret's I presume someone eats their greens. Not us.
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