"Please pass the butter," my daughter smiled, bread roll in hand.
"There is no butter," I reply, unable to service her demand.
"No butter on Christmas? What do you mean?"
It meant her mummy left me but I didn't want to make a scene.
"Um, sorry, I must have just forgot."
She checked the fridge and saw it empty, she saw that quite a lot.
"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," I wanted to break down and cry,
But she didn't want to see that, so I kept it all inside.