Up early or lie-in? I’d love a lie-in, but for the past six years we’ve had a child alarm clock. You could put Elsie to bed at midnight and she’ll still wake at 7am.
Sunday breakfast? We’ll usually have Frosties or Coco Pops. We’re big fans of peanut butter and Marmite together. My daughter has peanut butter, Marmite and honey, which is bizarre.
Out and about? We live near the Yorkshire countryside, so if it’s sunny we’ll go for a walk or to the seaside, then out for a roast.
Perfect roast? Roast dinners are my favourite. It’s hard to find somewhere that does crispy roast potatoes and mash. Nowhere does proper gravy. It’s criminal.
Sunday afternoon? Whatever our child tells us: go to the shopping centre, make a den, watch telly. She calls the shots.
Sunday housework? I’m messy, but my sinks, toilets and work surfaces are clean. Jon [Richardson, Beaumont’s husband] is meticulously tidy, but he’s not bothered about surfaces. I frantically try to sort out a week’s worth of mess in two hours.
Sundays growing up? I’d go to my granny and grandad’s. It was pretty idyllic: peeling spuds on our knees in front of the telly. They were both art teachers, so they’d be drawing. It was very calm, very different to how my mum and I lived.
Sunday wind-down? Red wine. I’ve also got into CBD oil, but I can only take it when Jon’s here, because I pass out.
Look forward to or dread Mondays? Look forward, because I’m my own manager. I used to be a teacher. I miss…
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