Our anniversary I mentioned a few days ago. Remember the pineapple?

So there we are at breakfast, almost. I’m the breakfast getter in our place. My wife does not do mornings. It’s true, she’s even got the tee shirt.

I fill the kettle, plug it in, set up the teapot, open the cupboard to get the muesli, she wanders into the kitchen.

“I’ve got this,” she says and reaches into a shopping bag and brings out a pineapple. For somebody who does not do mornings, this is pretty good.

We laugh. We cut the pineapple. We eat it for breakfast as if we are Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip.
(Except younger.)
(And better looking – both of us.)
(And with a more functional family.)
(And … OK, it doesn’t really matter …

We exchange presents. She opens my gift to her and starts laughing – it’s a funny present. “I almost bought this for you!” she says. I suppose I kind of bought it for myself anyway.

I get to work late. “Let them guess,” I say to myself.

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