1. Butter drips through the holes in my crumpet.
2. Debbie buys my lunch because I've forgotten my purse.
3. I come home to a hug; and 'My poor darling and her distraught early morning phone call'; and my summer shoes, the mould cleaned off, lined up under the bedroom heater.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
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I have awarded you The Superior Scribbler Award.You can pick it up on my blog.
ReplyDelete4. Licking off the butter running down your hand from the crumpet.
ReplyDelete