Granny’s Relish

It’s Saturday morning, and both my kids are at a local birthday party: I’m not going, because it’s a Two Party Saturday and I’ve pulled the late shift. I’ll be at Jungle Jim’s tonight, watching all the sweaty midgets get high on e-numbers before bedtime. It’s no big deal: I’m used to it. 

What I’m not used to is making lunch at my nan’s house. My nan lives very close to the party location, so I’ve escaped to grab a quick bite to eat… 

…except it’s not proving to be quick. In fact, it’s proving practically bloody impossible. 

‘Nan! Have you got any cheese?’ 

‘What’s that?’ 

‘CHEESE!’ 

‘I’ve got MY cheese. It’s in the fridge. You don’t have any of YOUR cheese here: you live somewhere else.’ 

‘Can I have some of yours?’ 

‘I don’t want to go out shopping tomorrow!’ 

‘You go out shopping EVERY day.’ 

‘Yeah, well, cheese isn’t f**king cheap.’