Least Said by Pamela Fudge Page A

shopping,’ I said.
    ‘Not for clothes,’ he screwed his face up in anticipated disgust.
    ‘School shoes, maybe, but we can also get new trainers while we’re out. Maybe even that pair you were so desperate for the other day.’
    His face brightened. ‘Really? And McDonalds afterwards?’ The suggestion was added hopefully and I didn’t have a problem with that occasionally – it was Jon I would be steering well clear of fast food restaurants in future.
    ‘Ok,’ I conceded, ‘but we are also going food shopping,’ I held up my hand as the protests started, ‘and we’re going to buy the ingredients to make our own chicken nuggets and beef-burgers and you ,’ I emphasised, ‘are going to help me make them.’
    ‘Wow.’
    I couldn’t have said anything that would have pleased him more, because William did love to cook. His enthusiasm made me realise it would work better all - round if he was included in the changes we were about to make to our lifestyle, even if he wasn’t aware of the reason for them.
    We might have spent more time in the supermarket than was usual, but it was time well spent as I discussed the various ingredients we were buying with Will, and also the reasons we were choosing this one as opposed to that apparently similar one over there.
    ‘Well, what’s all this then?’ Jon exclaimed when he walked in on a scene resembling Celebrity Masterchef at the end of his working day.
    ‘We’re making proper beef burgers,’ Will told him importantly from his position standing on a chair, wrapped in one of my large white aprons, and up to his elbows in a minced beef mixture.
    ‘He has washed his hands thoroughly,’ I mouthed at Jon, and added a little louder, ‘we’re on a healthy eating kick, aren’t we, Will?’
    ‘Yes,’ he agreed, adding sagely, ‘eating food that’s full of vikamins and nucraments.’
    ‘Vitamins and nutrients?’ Jon hazarded a guess, looking to me for confirmation, and then offering, ‘why don’t I fire up the barbeque to give those burgers a really authentic taste?’
    ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Will jumped up and down so much that he was in real danger of toppling from the chair.
    ‘Careful,’ I made a lunge and grasped his arms to hold him steady. ‘If you carry on like that it will be a visit to the hospital instead of a barbeque. Now, do you want to go outside with Daddy or finish making the burgers?’
    I could tell he was torn, but in the end he stayed put and, with my help, he fashioned the mince mixture into fairly creditable beef burgers, though they varied quite considerably in both size and shape.
    ‘Those are amazing . ’ I could tell that Jon was viewing them from a proud father’s perspective when he was handed the tray of what could easily be described by less than doting parents as seemingly unappetizing lumps of raw meaty mixture.
    Well,’ he said later, when William had cleared his plate and was whooping round the garden trying to catch next door’s cat, ‘if the object of the exercise was to get him to eat more – I would say it was a resounding success.’
    ‘This,’ I replied handing him a sheaf of printed pages, ‘is the real object of the exercise but, if it has the side effect of encouraging Will to eat more healthily, I’d call that a huge bonus.’ I could see Jon eyeing the Sperm Production heading and I pointed to another bold statement further down the page which advised Improve Your Diet . ‘I thought it wouldn’t hurt for us all to be involved.’
    ‘This is what you were talking about this morning?’
    I nodded. ‘As you can see, I didn’t waste much time.’
    ‘It says here sperm production takes the best part of three months,’ Jon looked and sounded as if he’d been given some really bad news.
    ‘Well, yes, I don’t suppose it will improve overnight but,’ I gave him what I hoped was a saucy grin, ‘there’s no reason at all why we can’t get some practice in the meantime. To put it very bluntly, I’m