Milk and potholes

I’m up today at the crack of dawn. Nice and fresh. I made coffee and threw my hands to head, like a football striker who should have scored in the wide-open goal but instead, kicked it over the bar. Milk. There was enough for me, enough for maybe about 3-4 cups of the black gold which I turn brown by adding the milk. No big deal. It’s 5am… by the time the family wakes up and the kids want their precious cereal, the smaller shops will be open. It’s Sunday. The archaic UK Sunday trading laws sa...