Last night, Pete's dad and sister were with us, and we decided to have a takeaway. We've taken Pete's dad to the local Thai a couple of times, and although it is very expensive, he really likes it. We can't afford to go there without him, so this is a good thing. They did offer to babysit if Pete and I wanted to go out on our own, but Bernard is very under the weather, and not at all settled in the evening at the moment, so it was better to stay in.
Given the choice, Pete's dad asked if the Thai did takeaway. We didn't have a menu, so he and Pete went up there in the car with instructions to get a set meal, as long as it included a green chicken curry. They came back with four (4) bags of food, which I found out today had come to £80. See what I mean about it being expensive?
There were two sets of starters, featuring quite a lot of fishy stuff, but I traded for satay chicken and a filo parcel of something meaty. The best was the red curry, with beef that just melted in your mouth. There was loads of food left, but Pete's sister scraped everything into one of the bags, and nothing could be salvaged. Such waste.
Poor sick baby had nearly a whole stage 2 jar of Lancashire Hotpot, and some dried apple for pudding. Today he has hardly eaten anything, but got hysterical with tiredness just now and was breastfed to sleep. Lambkin.
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