Banana

Although if you have read what I wrote earlier today you might not think it possible, I've actually had quite a good day today. I did my sad-dad bit and collected my offspring and we drove out to a place called Witley Court. Witley Court is the shell of a once great country house, destroyed by fire in the 1930's. It has great gardens, a fantastic fountain, and though the house is just a shell, it still has a certain grandeur to it. A very good place to spend a warm Saturday afternoon with the kids in fact.

Ruins are great if you have imaginative children, they have it rebuilt in their minds in no time at all. My daughter Harriet was busy sweeping up staircases being a princess, my son Charlie was rushing around spotting where the staircases used to be, and me, I was quietly pleased that they were so entertained without taxing my still slightly aching brain too much.

And how was this possible? How did I get from horribly hung over gutter dwelling fiend to responsible dad in the space of no more than 3 hours? The answer is simple. Coffee (obviously), a quick petrol station ham and cheese pasty, and most important of all, banana flavoured milk shake. I cannot stress enough just how fantastic banana milk shake is. I now make a habit of buying a bottle or two of it every time I get vodka, ready for the morning after.

But why is that although I like almost all things banana flavoured, I can't stomach bananas themselves?