The Sunday News.

 A day interspersed with embarrassment.

Sundays, a day we have a lovely breakfast. Together yet still apart...slight computer junkies both of us, eating in front of it. Slightly worse than eating in front of the telly, but we can work on that. Still, it is the thought that counts and every now and again I lay the table which signals to Bob that a hasty retreat isn't possible.

Usually I do an extra long walk before breakfast and once it is ready to serve, I am hungry. Very hungry with the need to eat ( sad impulse control here ) while my husband is more than happy to defer mealtimes to slot in with certain computer activities. Somehow he can banish any thought of hunger for a while. That bit of time where I am jumping at the bit, almost salivating at the thought of eating.

This more or less happened this morning although Bob wasn't doing computer stuff but was instead going outside for a quick smoke. Fair enough, he usually is pretty fast but for some reason he refused to come back inside. After two loudly stated requests for him to come inside-to no avail- I took it upon myself to go to the front door, open it in the manner that wives have perfected through eons of time and audibly vociferated three slightly annoyed words:

                    " Breakfast. Is. Ready. "

As he didn't reply I ventured out a bit further and to my charging saw Bob talking to one of our neighbours across our front gate. They both turned to look at me. One slightly annoyed and one slightly amused. Yes, our neighbour was amused and I suppose happy to find out that Bob too was on the receiving end of a tetchy comment from his other half. Usually one can only imagine how others are but hearing it firsthand, kind of gives a bit of comfort that all's well in the world of wives and their at times unfathomable albeit usual ways...

Biggi