If it hadn't been a trap, the conversation would have been something more akin to...

The Good Lady looked longingly into my eyes and said ...

The little lady and I are going to attend the protest march organised by Greta Thunberg tomorrow.

My fork paused mid-delivery to my mouth.

That's wonderful my darlings. I hope the weathers nice. You know how unpredictable Glasgow weather is this time of year.
_{Why is my daughter not going to school so that she can get a high paying job and pay for my alcohol and tobacco habits. Meh, this will look good as an outside activity on her flawless resume. Besides, this will give me some alone time on a Saturday}

My fork continued travelling in it's perfect trajectory toward my mouth. It was a spectacular bite.