Thursday, May 24, 2018

May 24. Day 144. You're toast

Punctuation is very important. If I said to my husband "You're toast," it would mean in deep trouble. But if it was "your toast" it's presenting breakfast. It was Charles' birthday today. Being the most dutiful wife, I had bought the presents some time ago and stashed them. I even remembered where. Then about a week ago I had a thought. "Charles has this 'thing' with toast." He's really particular. The toast comes out of the toaster and is stacked like he starting to build a house of cards. This, he says, stops it from going soggy. So it occurred to me that he needed a toast rack. It cost next to nothing. Naturally, like the child who prefers the box to the gift, he was so delighted. He was grinning like the canary who got the cream.
And then I served the toast alongside unquestionably the most disgusting breakfast ever - kippers because I only had to cook them not eat them. He devoured it just as quickly as the noisy miner downed the worm. And then we stopped at the Italian bakery - because if you can't eat, drink and be merry on your birthday when can you?

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