Feeding time at the zoo

Every other Wednesday or was it Thursday, I can’t be sure? Anyway, every something or other my da’ would get lost on his way home from work in the city and wouldn’t be in his right mind by the time he arrived home. My ma’ would have his dinner ready in the oven covered with tinfoil. More often than not he’d take one look at the dinner, head off down the garden path and throw it over the wall into the back lane. The ma’ eventually stopped making his dinner and he eventually stopped coming home.

Thirty or so years later, the ma’ is delivering the da’ his dinners during the covid nineteen pandemic and he hasn’t thrown the dinners or her off his balcony (yet).