Damn. Recaro's given me another reason for paid-working.
Today was my London-day - so he gets to cook. Usually he cooks spaghetti bolognese because it's the traditional meal of choice for all British men.
Today he excelled himself. He got Peaches to the childminder, he worked at home on all sorts of housey stuff - including fixing my email which is obviously very important - collected Peaches who was very exhausted at the end of the day, bathed her and got her to bed - and then cooked up lamb shanks in a tomatoey-carrotty gravy. With Thanet new potatoes.
It was tasty.
I made dessert. To be frank, this was the very least I could do. I present to you.... Greek yoghurt and honey.
I had to tell you about it because, I did not cook it. I believe this will reassure this woman that I am not mental.
By the way, it's time I told you a dirty joke;
As I serve up the yoghurt and honey, it occurs to me to take a photo of it. Recaro says, 'Would you like a small spoon?' He always ask this. Small spoons make desserts last longer and sweeter.
'Yes please. But don't stick it in. I want to take a photo of it first.'
That's what passes for classy humour in these parts.