This Sunday starts like any other. The big blue pot with the broken lid is retrieved from the cupboard, beef out from the fridge, oh yes, one of those slow roast joints! The salt, pepper, wine, chili seeds all go in with it, the foil goes on but today is different... what's this, the oven is cold, the beef doesn't make it in there but is taken out to the car... I trot quickly to it's side, YAWPING, where are you going with my Sunday Smell? I am ignored, I jump to the window but the view is obscured by the big bushy tree, damn. I run to the bedroom and there nestled in the front seat is MY BEEF!
Because we have IT installed now, I was seen pacing up and down, YAWPING, 'come back'. I spent 3 hours pacing that window sill in the hope that it would return, but alas it nor ManSlave or momma returned for hours. I fell asleep. It has to be a terrible dream I tell myself, this has never happened before, I don't understand, where has it gone, where have they gone...on a Sunday too, a day of rest!
I am awoken by the smell of beef, it has returned, it wafts up the stairs and into my nostrils, it had all been a dream, I know it - but no. Now the oven is going on and the ground tubers are being placed into the broken blue dish, snuggling around the meat to keep it warm. So where did the beef go to for 3hrs I will never know for sure, but Parental mumblings of 'why are we working on an empty house on a Sunday?' fill the air... but now my beef home and safe I can sleep easy knowing that in 40 mins I can start my YAWPING to have a taste!