Who said romance was dead?

So Thursday was our anniversary, Neil and me. And we went out for dinner and asked the waitress to take a photo.  It didn't go well.

"You clamped my arm deliberately to make it look like a ham, you rotten sod."
"Of course I didn't, you maniac. I barely know what you're talking about, never mind plan it and execute it."
"Look, I'll hold the camera and take another one."

Turns out first photo is like first pancake.

"Man, we look tired."

"Well, we are tired.  I'm exhausted."

'Let's do another one and try to look awake."

"I said 'awake'.  Not 'as if sitting on a thumb tack'.  Let's try again."

This was the start of the Charles and Diana period.  First I looked happily married and Neil looked unconvinced.









   Then he looked happily married and I looked as if I was at least considering my options.

Then we had some technical difficulties, owing to us (the part of us that's not me) hitting the wrong button on the camera.  I had to put my glasses on to fix it.

And I forgot to take them off again.

"Never mind.  I like your glasses.  Keep them on.  But you look photoshopped.  Try to look less as if you've been put in after your death.'

This was a good idea.

But Neil blinked.  And I decided to take my glasses off.  While they'd been on I'd noticed that my hair looked like Freddie Starr.  So I patted it down a bit. 



And managed to make myself look like The Village of The Damned instead.

Glasses off, hair fixed, eyes open, we tried again.



Meh.  Neil came up with a possible solution.  "It might be easier just to get divorced."

But then we saw the waitress returning, this time with ribs.



Look how happy we are!  Romance may be dead but barbecue is forever.