Glenda Jackson

I was pushing a trolley round Tescos looking for green lentils (which make much better mujadara, since you asked) with two kids squashed into the kiddie seats and Thom says "We need Goats milk." The Goats milk is a left over from Thom's excema and colic - apparently goats don't get either and cows do, so stay away from the cows (lest we forget that they had cowpox before we got small pox, let alone chicken pox, or even monkey pox). I'm not a milk drinker in tea or coffee so could not tell you whether it does have a slightly goatee taste or not when heated.

So anyway, Thom (who you'll remember is "nearly 4") says "There it is" displaying either remarkably developed literacy skills or a good memory for a brand image! We wheel over to the cold shelf and find the way blocked by a woman in a dark brown twin piece with a rather scraggy looking neck. I waited quietly exuding a "don't you realize you are in the way and I've got two small children who whilst being delightful and very attractive do encumber (today's zeitgeist) me greatly and you should give me priority" vibe. Eventually she moved off to the next shelf (the organic stuff) and turned around. It was our Glenda, resident of Blackheath and by this account regular shopper at Tescos Lewisham. I said to her. "excuse me. I think you're fab" and she said "Thank you very much".