A very large apple traybake I made this week (cut into fifteen sweet thick brick squares) did not have a damp bottom unlike, I fear, the Wembley pitch will have tonight.
I expect Hodgo has a dry mouth and the boys sweaty armpits at the prospect of meeting Montenegro in tonight's MUST WIN game.
I don't have mouth or armpit problems but my tum is gurgling horribly. Could it be Allinsons wholemeal bread I wonder. Or is it the thought of another evening of watching England.....
Been there, got the T shirt, got the xtreme emotional scarring that comes from watching England play.
Watching and living through an England game is like being punched senseless by a great aunt. You love 'em but how can they hurt you so much.
But having said that, I'll be nailed to the settee at 19:30 waiting for the exquisite torture to kick orf.
Likewise Mother.... she'll breathe a few more rattled determined old breaths when the anthem is played and, with reducing eyesight by the minute... peer sadly flickeringly at my big screen.
Blindness I fear is a-coming.
But lets not be downhearted, I'm making Hot Dogs tonight.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Gloria, as a late and slightly unexpected entry finding I could get time orf work at the last minute to join in the procedings with you. The hotdogs were fabulous, first half frustrating, second half nailbiting, but at least they came through with a 4-1 win. And, I loved every minute arm in arm with you on fhe sofa. Keep smiling Gloria
Having been brought up by a father whose working and social life contained nothing but football, this really made me smile, GH. Love GG x
Post a Comment