I went out dressed in my new Christmas poncho, feeling both snug and smug.
Daddy and I were enjoying a rare night out at a local Indian restaurant. It was a lovely meal, and as the time came to pay the bill, the remains of the Scottish banknotes came out.
I nipped off to the loo as the bill was being settled, so I didn't hear the next comment first hand:
"And your wife? Is she wearing traditional dress?"
Still snug, not quite so smug!
Currently reading: Death Comes to Pemberley by PD James