On sunny days, I should be sat outside a pleasant café, finishing a nice lunch with a glass of wine to hand.

In Autumn, I should be sat by the fireside in a big armchair inside a cosy rural pub, resting a pint on my full belly with a large empty plate on the table in front of me.

In Winter, I must be at home, with the heating on, a blanket over my legs because the heating isn’t sufficient, something good on the telly and a large bowl of something else warm and stodgy in front of me.

In Spring, I should be sat outside near the coast, with a fresh breeze on my face and a decent picnic spread nearby.

I need you to understand that anything else you want from me at such times is an unwelcome imposition, and I am deeply disappointed that you feel it acceptable even to ask.

[Note to self: probably get some exercise at some point too, with all that food.]