A Smashing Time

A minky free Wednesday as she’s off en famille to err la belle France. This left me strangely with a day where I thought I’d “get things done” but I frittered away too much of it leaving me with a slightly unsatisfied feeling as I stepped up to join the lads. Not helped by the fact that I’d bought myself an M&S fish pie and it was incredibly bland and tasteless somehow. If you can’t enjoy an M&S fish pie, clearly something’s not right.
Only one thing for it! And it was a most enjoyable session. F’s youngest had become a Dad earlier in the day – Alexander Andrew for the record. F’s fifth grandchild – and another is on the way! This called for a drink. But not so much drink that there would be any repetition of last week’s behaviour from MrT.
A sad tale. He arrived home with bigPhil to find his inner (vestibule) door snibbed. He rang and rang the bell. He phoned his somnambulant wife countless times. He phoned bigPhil. He phoned his son. What to do? Sleep in the vestibule? He thought his best course of action was to put his shoulder against the door frame and the yale would give…. Unfortunately that’s nice antique glass in that door old son, it may well come to grief.
Not as much grief as MrT got the next morning, poor lad.