Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder..

Published January 15, 2011 by Claire

A while ago I gave something up. Not for New Year; if you recall, for new year I gave up my day job. But a little while before that, around the middle of December, I gave up something far more precious, more dear to me. And this evening I must confess I have succumbed to temptation…

But before I tell you what temptation has overcome my resistence, allow me to furnish you with some background details.

Mid December – picture the scene. A soft blanket of white snow lies over Chez Claire. Fairy lights twinkle in the windows and if you could peep through you’d see Claire, putting up her Christmas cards. Before fixing each one to the wall, she opens it and re-reads the message inside with a fond smile. She takes a card from the top of the pile and admires the Victorian carol singers pictured on the front, but as she opens it her face falls. Who can it be from? What would cause this reaction?

I’ll tell you, shall I? It was from my local Indian takeaway, and it was hand-written and hand delivered. Not along with a curry, oh no. It wasn’t a case of “Chuck a card in with every delivery tonight, Yusef “(that genuinely is his name, I didn’t just pick a name I thought would sound right). Nope, this card was hand-written, addressed to me by name, and had been delivered by hand on a day when we were not having a takeaway meal.

This horrified me. Not the kind thought involved in sending me the card, but the fact that I mattered enough to be on their Christmas card list. You know you’re eating far too many takeaways when that happens.

So, right then and there, on the spot, I decreed that we would have no more takeaway meals. And it went well – here we are, four or five weeks later, and we (I) were (was) doing really, really well.

Until tonight, when I found myself annihilating a chicken korma, pilau rice, naan bread, and three onion bhajiis.

I think I’m going to give up giving stuff up    – but in my (somewhat rubbish) defence, I needed cheering up because I took the dogs out for a walk and they pulled me over onto my fat arse in the mud.

The response to this from my oh-so-caring offspring was “Can we go out and you can do it again, we could get £250 from ‘You’ve Been Framed…”

Not such a bad plan – you can buy a lot of takeaways with £250.


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