After the relentless questioning from Miss 12 grew almost continuous, I caved and made lunch for everybody – well, everybody except my other half who has gone out for the day.
“What shall we have then?”
I had a look through the cupboard, and discovered several tins of beans – one of them with sausages in.
“How about beans on toast with cheese on top? – with sausages in the beans – look!” (I showed her the tin).
She didn’t just nod – her eyes opened wide as she nodded. This is the Miss 12 equivalent of “Hell yes!”. One problem – no bread. Five minutes later I had pulled a coat on, and wandered off into the rain that has been falling all morning.
We have a wonderful corner shop. Although we call it a “corner shop”, it isn’t on a corner – it’s in the middle of a busy suburban road, flanked on all sides by houses, and usually decorated by several teenagers standing outside. I imagine the teenagers are either trying to scrape enough money together to buy something, or drawing straws on who will attempt to buy alcohol.
After arriving back at home – still minus one daughter who was still at a football match – I discovered Miss 12 putting saucepans on the hob.
“Are you hungry by any chance?”
Half an hour later – after answering the door to a bedraggled girls team goalie covered in mud and ushering her towards the bath – I put the beans on, and threw some bread in the toaster.
Those few minutes – sitting around the dinner table eating lunch together – were magic. Nobody said a word – they just ate. Everything. I know some people look down their nose at things like beans on toast, but on a cold wet day I challenge anybody to find something better.