I hate Shepherd's pie. I have mentioned this on numerous occasions to Mrs R, though I try to be more tactful. Usually I've said something along the lines of "I don't particularly care for it", or "it's not my favourite dish", but it turns out I've been wasting my time. I was asked to pick up some potatoes on the way home yesterday - never suspecting they'd be used as weapons against me.
Whilst sitting at the table, wondering what I'd done wrong, I was reminded of a similar incident I'd experienced as a child. I was once invited to dinner at the house of my best friend and was rewarded with a lime green mousse for dessert. It was possibly the worst thing I'd ever tasted and took me an age to force down.
"Did you like that?" asked his mother when I'd finished.
"Lovely, thank you", I replied - for I had excellent manners.
"Well you'd better finish it off", she said as she emptied the contents of her bowl into mine.
Three days of pictures
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