When ordering food for other people or for myself and others I'm unlucky.

The modern world is set up to make things easy for those who would let others take the strain of food preparation: go out to eat, or pick up the phone or electronic device, speak or blindly stab at buttons until something vaguely resembling a meal is concocted, then sit and wait. And occasionally peer out of the window if within the comfort of home, as if that will speed up the delivery process.

In theory it's foolproof. But no. For when I get involved it all turns to sh…

It'll either have not quite what was ordered, or something completely random thrown in, or it'll be late when visitors need to go home right after the meal we've spent seconds preparing.

When we're out anywhere my wife knows to order for the girls and herself and leave mine to me. It all arrives exactly as ordered, all of it, even mine.

Even some colleagues now know not to trust me, especially since the now slightly-famous 'non-popped egg yolk down the front of the shirt incident' of September 2017!

Unlucky Baz?

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