These are the words uttered to my long suffering missus the other night.
Seems she got up for her nightly trek to the loo and as she ventured through the portal which divides our bedroom and the great hallway to the place of relief, I sat up in bed and uttered the now immortal words that will live long in the minds and exaggerated perhaps in sonnets of future generations of my loins.
“I wonder if I’d got food on my mind” I later confessed.
“Don’t know” she said, but if you frighten me again like that there won’t be food on your mind.
Oooops maybe it was the cheese sandwich.

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I was going to bed, but as i cant resist the response.
even the strain of getting up to wet my lips with the half glass full of not to be taken booze, and the sitting in front of tiring thought.
I do wish sometime that this mind would explode in the way that i'd hope would happen....
Sod it ...to tired to even think about the times of cold when walking through areas of city life that have disappeared  and remained in my life.
Cuddle me in the the door way of the use to be.
So sad it's just a memory