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Our lad was right. As he headed out of the door for a weekend away, he laughed, “Dad doesn’t eat anything when he’s on his own.”

I told him that this time would be different, pointing out that his mum had left me food in the fridge. I won’t starve, I insisted.

But he was more or less right. Despite the meal left for me, I didn’t really eat. I picked at it, cold. Then, late in the evening when feeling hungry, I warmed up a bit of the rice in a pan and ate it with brown sugar.

Right now, I fancy a gourmet burger with skin-on fries. But I can’t be bothered to walk down to collect it. My wife has the car. Maybe I’ll motivate myself to warm up the last of the food in the fridge.

Yeah, the boy was right. Dad’s far too lazy to feed himself when left home alone. No wonder I was granted a Turkish wife.