Monday, January 13, 2014

Better Half

Mr.  Workman fancied a trifle, so he went ahead and whipped one up.  He's domestic like that. 

It was no sacrifice to eat this last night in lieu of our traditional Sunday night pocporn and milk shakes. 






After a series of difficult friend scenarios and disappointments I snuggled my defeated deflated tired self up to my husband,  and said, "I'm glad you understand me."

He turned to me looking rather surprised, "you think I understand you!?"

Well, perhaps not.  I am, after all, so very complex.  

Could it be unconditional love that substitutes for understanding?   Whatever it is, I will take it, along with a second serving of that delightfully British trifle. 




3 comments:

Nawana said...

Pudding panic!

Ramblin' On said...

Good to see you back on your blog. Let's get together and workout.

Betina said...

Nawana.... I am a product of my people. Pudding Panic. I still laugh about the chefs of the world thing.