Boxing Day

I start the day with liquorice tea rather than my usual coffee.  I have a cold.  Or rather, man-flu, which means sore throat, coughs, aches and that general feeling of NOT ENOUGH ATTENTION.

I wander into the kitchen looking …. forlorn.  Anniemay’s standing over the ironing board, all shirts and sweat.  She looks up; “Copernicus just called – you’re not the centre of the Universe.”  I acknowledge her wit and admire her handiwork. These are the finest, most wrinkle-free shirts I’ve ever seen.  And I’ve seen a few in my time.

My powers of deduction lead me to infer that she might have man-flu as well. Oh Oh. 
 
I venture out to the local shop for Lemsip. While in the queue for the checkout I take advantage of the ‘last two individual Christmas puddings only 75p’ on the off chance they have some therapeutic value.  I check the sell-by date just in case the offer is too good, but no, April 2015 is stamped on the lids.

We spend the afternoon sat on the sofa watching Downton Abbey and sipping our Lemsips until it’s time for drinks and nibbles and pudding.