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.