He didn't like it one bit, especially when I dragged him into the changing room and forced him to try on six budget shirts and four pairs of combat shorts. He grumbled, exhaled many a loud puff of air and reached for his phone which I had to snatch out of his mitts and eventually confiscate.
We left the shop with three massive bags filled to the brim with jumpers, shorts, a hat, gloves, T-shirts and some nice new socks; plus new jams and hoodies for the kids as standard. My husband was in bad shape.The colour had drained from his face as had the balance of his bank account and he insisted that the only way to restore his depleted levels of joy was to hit the pub.
And so off we went for a pint.Read More