Pizza... wine... olives... fudge ice cream pudding...

I forgot to say that Mothers Day went brilliantly - a zillion years away from what happened last year. Ben wrote me the sweetest poem; the kind that brings tears to your eyes, and hand-painted a lovely card. The previous night's meal at Pizza Express was about as happy and relaxed as you can get - not a hint of the 'evil ED' as Ben tucked into a huge seafood pizza plus a side of plump olives accompanied by a large glass of white wine and followed by an ice cream pud with fudge bits in it. And then he came home and took a large bite out of some chocolate peanut brownies which he'd baked that afternoon. Result? Mama Matty grinning like a cheshire cat all the way back home. A triumph!