All is done. In the kitchen the prime rib is "resting" along with the roasted potatoes and carrots. The salad just needs a quick topping with the freshly made Stilton dressing, and the lighter-than-air homemade chocolate mousse is setting nicely in the fridge.
The dining table looks perfect all decked out with the finest of the finest accompanied by candlelight and nostalgic melodies.
Naturally, I'm wearing the requisite little black dress, stiletto heels, oodles of pearls, and the scent of Chanel.
It's Friday, 8:30 pm. I'm ready. But where the @/% is my husband who's forgotten me.
The dining table looks perfect all decked out with the finest of the finest accompanied by candlelight and nostalgic melodies.
Naturally, I'm wearing the requisite little black dress, stiletto heels, oodles of pearls, and the scent of Chanel.
It's Friday, 8:30 pm. I'm ready. But where the @/% is my husband who's forgotten me.
