Yep, it’s been confirmed. L is definitely ill. She’s had a day off work for the first time since... well, the 1980’s, I think. Meanwhile I run into work. Less than thirty minutes from Borrowash to work, not bad for someone who’s now another year older. I even actually enjoyed it, which for a morning run is a real surprise.
My birthday yesterday and MD’s today as he enters the ‘terrible twos’. With L being at home, the birthday boy has probably had sausages for breakfast. If he’s out of bed yet that is, he’s so like a teenager sometimes, which in dog years he now is.
I was half right. In the afternoon L emails me to say she’s doing sausage and chips for his tea. Honestly you’d think he was human. I hope she’s joking. He’s supposed to be on a carefully controlled athlete’s diet, even on his birthday. As is L for that matter.
However I’m on very rocky moral high ground tonight as I’m out with some friends in Derby and apart from the usual beers... what’s this I’m having for tea... ah, steak pie and chips. Good athletes food no doubt.