‘This reminds me of an episode of How I met Your Mother’ – Mrs V on more than one occasion.
You could replace How I met Your Mother with Seinfeld or Friends, but the principle is the same, a lot of life’s situations are often reflected in the humour of long running comedy shows. In this case I’m thinking of the episode ‘Drunk Train’ in which Lily and Marshall tell the group the key to a successful relationship is not keeping score.
I see food as a challenge, whenever I see a potential culinary challenge I feel like I need to attack it. All you can eat is an open invitation to try, and if there is an exotic cut of meat I’m going to try it.
This has got me into problems more than once, Mrs M complains that I think I can eat like a big game hunter but ostrich, alligator, boar have all lead to dietary ramification which mean I am now restricted to a ‘farmyard’ only diet.
The evening routine for our kids seems to be getting longer. As they have got older we are having to introduce new facets to going to sleep to get them to co-operate, and it is starting to reach the breaking point.
Initially the routine was simple:
Feed them dinner, bathe them, dress them, put them down to sleep.
I vaguely remember the dawn of the new millennium, I’m going to claim it was due to a heavy cold but being twenty at the time my memory degradation was more self-inflicted. I don’t remember going out for New Year’s Eve since then, and not because of alcohol.
I think that was the last occasion I revelled in the changing of the calendar, not that I really went party crazy before then. Instead of getting pickled I prefer to watch the fireworks and have a cheap glass of whiskey, and that is just what I will do tonight (without the gunpowder).
Viva Ergo Sum 