She pretends to go to sleep. When her sister is asleep she creeps out of bed, quiet as a church mouse, and comes downstairs. To watch Masterchef.
I'll be drinking tea and possibly nibbling on a Ritters Sport. I'll give her a square even though she has already brushed her teeth. Like me she's a fan of the marzipan which, I believe, is highly unusual amongst human beings. Next, she'll start to guess who will win and so will I...
Only this time, on this blessed evening, I will not have to guess who will win. I know who will win. And victory shall, at last, be mine.
1 comment:
Damn and Blast! She picked the Irish one first and made me pick the bloke.
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