This week I was having a quiet soup and sandwich sort of lunch with the 95-year old gentleman who came to live with me earlier this year. I’ve written about him previously in The Old Man and the Pea and Enhanced Eating.
‘What was Christmas like when you were young?’ I asked him.
‘Oh, it was alright,’ he answered, ‘except for the terrible one.’ Then he continued munching his cheese and pickle sandwich.
I waited patiently. ‘You can’t leave it at that,’ I said eventually. ‘You’ll have to tell me.’ Continue reading