Easter Monday is a bank holiday here. I woke up to…you guessed it – rain. The day stretched out before me. There are two sullen teenaged boys in the house. As the morning wore on, I considered making lunch for the four of us. And then I considered that I would have to sit across from the table from these two boys and I considered the long, bored looks on their faces when conversation was made. I reflected upon the monosyllabic responses we would probably get when we posed open ended questions to them. I knew that all the chirpiness I could muster would never crack them…and chirpiness isn’t my M.O. anyway. So I looked across the room at AP and I said, “how about the two of us go out for a nice lunch and we leave the boys here with two pasties that they can heat up in the oven…” and to my delight, AP said yes. So we did.
Other Easter activities included a visit with friends and putting the world to rights at the village pub…
Thanks Stuart and Stephanie for hosting a cracking good Easter reunion.
Didn’t “pasties” use to be the word for what strippers wore, or barely wore? On their “chesties”?