Nicely, if I look a bit peeved or put out, I AM. I’m tapping my jelly beans as I look ahead to THEM to get effectively utterly in order that THEY can come be the place THEY belong!
Mama is unfavourable and conserving sane by cooking, she tells me. Butter hen, chapatis, BLTs, pasta with broccoli and tomato, pasta with tuna, pasta, pasta, pasta.
Nothing extra therapeutic than a pleasant bowl of pasta, papa says.
And thanks all a lot on your form well-wishes for mama and papa. They had been fairly gobsmacked by this, no matter meaning…..
And I wait.
And wait.
And….you get it.
