Wetherspoons with Millie


Millie and I went out for lunch on Sunday.  The Lovely Melanie and Amber had gone to a birthday party in “lovely” Dartford, so Millie and I were left to amuse ourselves.

“Where would you like to go?” I asked her.  “How about Pizza Express?”

“McDonald’s!”

Really?  I thought we’d gotten over this obsession with bad fast food.

“We’re not going to McDonald’s,” I replied.  “We have to go to Bexleyheath to get some bits and pieces anyway – why don’t we go to the Pizza Express there?  Or the Pie Shop?”

“Wetherspoons!  Wetherspoons is my favourite restaurant!”

“You said Wagamama was your favourite, after Mummy took you there.”

“Wagamama is third, after Wetherspoons and McDonald’s.”

“We can go anywhere you like – anywhere – and you want to go to Wetherspoons?”

“Wetherspoons!”

So, Wetherspoons it was.  I have nothing against Wetherspoons particularly – they don’t play loud music, which, if you’re trying to talk to someone, is a huge bonus, their beer is cheap, and they have a decent selection of drinks usually – but their food is a bit rubbish.

Anyway, we had a perfectly acceptable lunch there, just the two of us, drawing aliens, discussing politics – Millie explained how her class had all written letters to the council about their alleged plans to sell off Danson Park, and I explained a little about how democracy works and how Mummy and Daddy often wrote letters to people in power – and generally having a nice bit of father-daughter time.

While in Bexleyheath we had to buy some extra fencing to block a low part of our garden fence where a fox got in again on Saturday and tried again to have Chicken Licken for lunch.  Dave and Lily were both able to jump over the new gate and ran inside the house for safety, which inexplicably upset Millie and Amber more than Licken’s lucky escape!

Chicken Licken is limping again and refusing to come out of the chicken coop.  Fingers crossed she recovers again, like last time.

The low part of the fence is now blocked in a “rough and ready” fashion, (or “shoddy” as other people call it), and we haven’t seen the fox again; however, let’s not forget that absence of evidence is not evidence of absence – just because we haven’t seen any foxes yet doesn’t mean they can’t get in.

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