There's a big fat storm heading our way, says the Bureau of Metereology. No sign of the action yet (but we've cancelled the midnight toddler rock-fishing lessons.) The swell was big, though.
'Quick trip down to check out the surf?' suggested Keith.
Ten minutes later, in the car, I said 'I see you're not looking me in the eye, Husband.'
Some time later, we established that men all over the land were probably having the same uncharitable feelings towards their wives, who turned a quick dash down the road into just-let-me-get-the-kids-a-sandwich-have-you-got-a-nappy-bag-ooh-I-might-grab-a-coffee-on-the-way-give-me-five-secs-for-a-wee sort of adventure.
He suggested a homosexual relationship might save him some of this angst. I wondered whether he might change his tune when he got the flu.
A sweet Sunday afternoon.
(This photo makes me laugh.I don't know what Ted is doing in the background, but it's naughty.)