Something wrong here...

9am Sunday. I was sat doing my day job, minding my own business, half watching a Top Gear prog that I've only seen a dozen times before. The office door opened and in came MrsDB with a tray of food. Not my usual rib sticking porridge or brown toasted cardboard. I half glanced up to see a tray with fried things upon it. Woooeeeee!!!!! Proper food.

Now that's a worry. I didn't have to throw an epi to get it, there have been no big scenes, no huffies, no threats of my heart bursting and my arteries solidifying, she did it of her own volition.

So why worry you may ask. Well my suspicious mind went into overdrive… Another man perhaps? Even more worrying, an overspent Mastercard? Or heaven forbid, a crashed car???

I challenged her. Phew! Relax again. It's Ozzie tennis on the TV and she wants to be left alone. It was a guilt trip offering. No problem darling, watch it tomorrow too if you want to. Two eggs next time though and heavy on the bacon. Fried bread would be nice too.


Ooooh, got a funny twinge in my upper chest. Indigestion.