Foiled

The propensity for the tiniest bit of chocolate to fall unseen off a Magnum and melt on one’s clothes is overwhelming. No matter how careful I am, sure as fate there is the telltale chocolate stain right in the middle of the white tee shirt or on the leg of the pastel coloured trousers when I’ve finished. Not today, however. In preparation for the Magnum opus, I donned a huge apron to cover every part of me.
Actually what would serve me well would be one of those children’s plastic bibs with the catch trays in vogue 40 years ago.
Another summer’s day but slightly airier than of late. No complaints though.