Food For Thought

My Dear Princess and Dear Fellow,

Caro is still on her sausage bender. But when I took them out of the air fryer tonight, I found that one of the sausages had pooed its pants. Squirted a little bit of sausage-meat out. 

And when I plated her sausages, they sort of formed a little "V" shape above the mash. And I saw happy, smiling eyes. So I put the sausage-poo in the middle as a nose. And then arranged some vegetable "hair".

"Look, it's Santa!" I texted to the FOBS.

"Sure it is," replied Olivia. 

"Don't pretend you didn't do that on purpose," added Briar.

Fazzy just sent me a face-palm.

They were LOL-ing at me for the next ten minutes before Caro looked at Santa. "Oh for god's sake," she sighed. "The legs aren't far enough apart," she added.

THEY ALL HAVE MINDS LIKE SAILORS

I'm still not entirely sure what they all saw. A broccoli-man shagging mashed potatoes? 

But then Caro ate her dinner as she always does. Piece by piece. She eats all of the veges first, then the potato, then the sausage. 

"I like the sweetness of the broccoli," she explained. "Then the creaminess of the mash and finally the hero of the dish - the sausage."

She looked over at my meal which was all mixed up. 

"I like the balance of all the different flavours and textures" I explained. 

"Ewww!!" she responded.

"I don't even know how we are still married," I said, sadly.

Caro has very strict rules of food, is my point. But then I guess I do too. For example, I have to have a cold drink with a meal. A hot drink with a meal is just too much. 

I can have a hot drink with cakes and sandwiches. THAT's different. But if it's a meal then it has to be juice or water. 

Oooh, ooh... except a cooked breakfast. I have to have tea or maybe coffee with a cooked breakfast. You CANNOT have a cold drink with a hot breakfast. 

Except orange juice. 

Look. It's complicated. Santa understands.

S.