I arrived home this evening after my traditional fast quart of ale which stretched to a half gallon in my local hostelry with hopes high of a sumptuous repast laid on by Mrs Clint Bint.
It is after all Thursday evening which in my book constitutes the early weekend and all the excesses this brings after an abstemious Mon-Wed health regime.
You can imagine how my heart sank when I espied some grilled chicken,mashed potato,carrots and broccoli on offer as part of Mrs B's attempt to administer a healthy diet to the pair of us.
Not even a smudge of fatty gravy adorned this pathetic offering.
I feigned delight and effusiveness while simultaneously distracting her attention by not eating as she announced she was off to bed for an early night to watch TV after her culinary endeavours. ( You can imagine how I smirked privately at this point. )
As soon as the coast was clear and the extractor fan on high I leaped into action.
The chicken was flung at the dog,caught in mid-air and wolfed down even before I'd got the frying pan with olive oil at the perfect temperature for some chopped onions,two sausages,the spuds,broccoli and carrots mashed into a bubble and squeak with an egg fried to perfection and laid out on two slices of toasted rye bread.
Man,that sucker was superb and registering much higher on the cholesterol level than the original intended dish.
So the way I figure it is this.
Mrs Clint Bint is happy because I'm eating healthy,I'm happy because I'm not and the dog gets an unexpected chicken bonus.
Tonight has been a win-win situation whichever way you look at it.