...... when your husband sacrifices his evening cup of tea because he forgot to buy a bottle of milk. That's what the Farmer did. We get two bottles on Monday and two on Friday, occasionally having to buy another bottle midweek. But this has become the Farmer's job since I surrendered my driving licence last November. Only this week, he forgot. When I went to get the milk out of the fridge in order to make my mashed potatoes, I had no choice but to leave the smallest amount, meaning not enough for two cups of tea. Where we live it isn't a case of walking to the corner shop.
Most nights at around 9.30, he makes us both a cuppa, occasionally gracing me with a plate of biscuits. But it meant only one cup. And he, being the perfect gentleman, insisted that the one cup should be mine. I didn't marry him for his money, nor did I marry him for his romantic gestures; but I did marry him for love, and of course his night time cuppa. What is love for you?
I wonder if you would spare a few moments to vote for Sparky in the Boomerang Favourite Pets competition. Amy set it up and she and I would be so grateful. Here's the link : Sparky Huge thanks xx