We arrived at my Grandma’s birthday lunch in the usual whirlwind of happy chaos. I glanced down at the two of us, Arthur in his pyjamas and me in the first thing I could find out the boxes. Possibly not the best looks.
Me: “Oh gosh sorry, he’s in his pajamas.”
Her: “Good for him!” - “I wish I was.” she whispered conspiratorily, eyes twinkling.
Note to self: Stop saying sorry. Wear pyjamas more. Be a total joy like your grandma.