Life is slowly returning to normal. Though the trips to Somerset aren't over. The other day we do treat ourselves to a day at the shops. Lunch out, too much money spent. Came home with a box of chocolate covered peppermint creams by way of nostalgia and that evening we do sample them for a treat. Swallowing is closely followed by gargling and coughing on The Old Man's part.
"It's the fondant," say I, "Don't let it go down the wrong way and make you cough." The Old Man do look at me most mournfully.
When I come back into the room I do find him hung forward over the table... nose almost touching the surface.
"I'm doing this so's it don't go down the wrong way and make I cough."
It's not a look I like. Reminds me of care-homes... or death. I tell him to stop it.
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