Celebrate good times. Well, come on.

I just took a phone call from QEII who is off to Bali for Christmas and New Year. She's leaving a couple of days before my birthday and is anxious that we have a get-together before that to celebrate and exchange presents and all that guff.

Lunch or dinner was suggested and then we settled on dinner this Sunday.

"If the weather's nice we can sit outside in the nice evening air!" she said.

"Mmm, yes," I agreed. I was thinking about the very attractive outdoor area at her place. We hadn't been to QEII's place in quite a while, as lately we've asked her to stay for tea when she's dropped by. "So, look, is there anything you want us to bring?"

There was a pause. Not a slight pause. A significant pause.

"See, the thing is Haze, I was hoping you would put dinner on for me."

"So, what you're saying is, "Happy birthday, Haze! As a special treat I'm letting you cook me dinner!"?!"

"I'm not proud of myself. If you want to break up with me right now, I'll understand."

I did consider it for a moment.

"Nah, I'll never be rid of you as long as you know where I live."

Now The Burp will read this and be outraged if she is not accorded similar treatment. Huff.