It’s been a lazy Sunday, one of those where nothing was really planned, but where the day tripped along quite merrily – an hour or so in the garden, a nice lunch, a spontaneous walk and cup of tea at the local tea shop. It’s been the four of us. Toots has been animated and buzzing around, choosing and completing jigsaws, watching a bit of telly, scuttling around the garden with her watering can, watering the same thing over and over again.
This afternoon’s walk took us all down the high street. Toots took her scooter, and scooted most of the way. Bub was in his pram, resting, taking his afternoon nap, though he stirred in the tea shop and came onto mum’s knee. Toots was keen to have a high chair, but also keen to come in and out from the cafe garden. The movement of the kids meant we had to check out the cakes at the front of the tea shop separately. My wife tootled off to the front and came back, explaining that there was a choice of three – a Victoria Sponge, a coffee cake or a chocolate cake. A nice choice, but a bit limited, I thought.
The tea came, the cake was lovely, Bub stayed quiet and relaxed, helped by a little feed, and Toots helped herself, rather cleverly, to half of dad’s cake and half of mum’s. I heard, from a table near us, a desire for the carrot cake. My ears pricked.
“I wasn’t offered carrot cake,” I remarked to my wife.
“Yes, there was carrot cake. There were loads of cakes,” she chirped.
“But you said Victoria, coffee or chocolate”.
“Yes, that was my choice, not the whole choice”. I suspect I looked a little grumpy. “You know the secret of a good marriage,” she laughed. “Communication!”
I shook my head. “Tolerance,” I countered.