PEA PRESSURE

 

Occasionally, my husband Trevor and I are called upon to cook breakfasts and lunches at the Coventry Methodist Central Hall. The regular chef, Steve, has super-human powers.... he must have, to cope with the pressure of the long line of orders. Due to a dodgy ankle, Steve was unable to work today so Trev and I responded to a cry for help and went to the front line to face the enemy... the army of customers with their orders of breakfasts, double breakfasts, fish and chips, jacket potatoes, baguettes, batches and everything with chips, chips, more chips and frigging peas. For some reason I have an aversion to frozen peas. I hate the fact that they are cold to the touch but when microwaved, they are so bloody hot, the bowls of them take the skin off my fingers. Burnt fingers I can cope with but my husband shouting "PEAS, HAVE YOU DONE THE PEAS!" every 2 bleeding minutes makes me want to stick every scalding pea down his underpants. I've so far managed to resist the temptation but how long before I succumb to this PEA..er pressure..?