A knock at the door this evening as I’m cooking dinner.
Expecting it to be my dad, over to watch the match with Tony Baggins, I think nothing of answering in my onesie.
Hello, hello, it’s not my father. Nor ANY member of my family. Neither is it a friend or neighbour.
Bellis, in his innocent days before seeing me in my pjs
He looks a little taken aback by the outfit, but bravely soldiers on.
I listen politely to his little speech while the broccoli burns, thank him and – as I’m closing the door – Tony B jumps out at me from the darkened hallway (one of his top 3 favourite games of all time) JUST as the front door swings shut.
All the politician knows – not having seen there was a prank-playing husband present – was that a potential voter screamed their HEAD off as the door shut.