December 2, 2012 by kitcac
Tonight’s a la carte menu at the House of Hooks was Morrisons’ pizza.
Shove it in the oven, job’s a good ‘un! That’s a poem, fyi.
Stavros was busy finishing off the stairs by doing some sort of sawing and shaving of spindles and I was feeding JWop a bizarre cheese and peas combo that he seems to enjoy.
The alarm on the oven went off for about 5 minutes before either of us heard it, but Morrisons must do something to their pizzas to let you eat them straight from the oven without having to peel a layer of melted skin off the top of your mouth.
We both tucked in to it with gusto.
After a little while, Stavros said “oooh”. Not a good “oooh”. More like a worried “oooh”.
I looked at him and he said it again. “Oooh” and he touched his throat.
I asked him what was wrong. He’d dropped a bit of pizza crust on his front, so picked it off his tshirt and ate it.
But it turns out that as he swallowed it, he realised that it was not pizza crust but was actually a piece of wood that had been stuck to his clothing.
“I ate a piece of wood. It did not taste good.” That, fyi, is also a poem. We’re such a creative couple.