Trying to explain to the kid why her toast burns while I'm looking for the butter and she asked why I don't get the butter first. Cheers chef, excellent contribution. At work I can set a whole section up before service, at home I start breakfast and then go hunting for every bloody thing one at a time. Think it's because I reckon home should just happen without the prep. Partner says the clean dishes don't just happen either. Wasn't requesting a full performance review. I've put the breakfast stuff together for tomorrow, except the butter obviously, before someone reports me to food safety.

Day off and the kid wanted to be carried up the hill. Four years old and apparently finished with walking. Had her on my shoulders for a bit and could feel every step through my thighs, not sore exactly, just very aware I was taking another human uphill after a week on section. She kept leaning forward to tell me things directly into my skull. Put her down by the dairy and my whole body felt lighter than it had before I picked her up. Bought milk and stood outside drinking water while she investigated one crack in the pavement for about six years. Back home I ate sitting down. Luxury establishment.

Our dishy did an impression of me calling the grill and the whole kitchen cracked up. First thought was cheeky little shit, second thought was that he'd got the voice bang on. I laughed too, then kept thinking about how angry I sounded even when he was only pretending to be me asking for plates. Told him he'd missed the bit where I'm charming. More laughing. Fine. Mostly fine. On the way home I caught myself saying the same line in the car to hear it, which is fairly pathetic even for me. The kid asked if I was cross when I came in. I wasn't. Just didn't want her doing the impression as well.