Things you woulda seen if you were looking in our kitchen window during the last half hour:
Me doing something that might be considered dancing by those with imaginations and as little sense of rhythm as I do.
Frozen veges boiled, dumped onto a plate, eaten with a fork and the plate licked clean.
Me still dancing around, this time with a block of cheese held under my chin for five minutes.
Some sausages tortured with tongs and a frypan then put in some bread and covered with grated cheese.
Me fighting with a goddamn cheese grater because the fucken thing wouldn't hold still. Cheese graters make horrible dance partners.
Then finally me charging off through the door with the sausages to devour them in the safety of my lair. Grr.