A Good Breakfast

Whilst driving into Cully this morning I pondered on what Bert should wear to today's funeral. I also decided that he should buy a himself new suit for he's getting to an age now where he will be attending more funerals. Then I got to thinking that Bert will need a good suit for his own funeral and the thought of that made me feel very serious and sad. I determined that I was going to be much nicer to him from now on, and appreciate him while I still have him, for he is a very decent sort of man.

I resolved that when I got home I would make him a healthy cooked breakfast and that's what I did. I made him scrambled eggs on toasted wheaten bread. While he was eating it I told him that cooking for him made me feel like Carmela Soprano. And I said,

And with that good breakfast in you, you can go out and strangle somebody with your bare hands and then you can phone up The Bun to come and help you sterilise the crime scene and dispose of the corpse.

He laughed. That's another thing that's great about Bert. He enjoys my sense of humour.