"So what is it like, living with a writer?" an old friend asked my husband yesterday.
"Very difficult," he said. "I looked in the cupboard last week for something to eat and found nothing but spaghetti hoops."
"But you like spaghetti hoops," I said. "That's why I bought them."
"What?" he said.
"Oh no…sorry," I said. "It's Gus who likes spaghetti hoops."
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