Sunday, 26 April 2015

Carnage and violence in the kitchen

One of the best things my wife has bought is our bread maker.

We must have had it for over 15 years now.

You would think that after all that time we would have got used to the smell of fresh bread in the morning and we would have developed some degree of decorum and self control.

Apparently not.

I could only guess at the feverish fight to consume a slice(!) of bread that resulted in the remains that greeted me when I got home...

Apologies for the quality, the photos were taken with my phone, while I still had the chance.

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