My husband has a new love interest. I am devastated. He rushes to her arms every chance he gets, and spends hours playing with her joystick. He is, at this very moment, downstairs talking to her. TALKING to her!
Oh! To be talked to in such dulcet tones!
Oh! To gain attention by just sitting there flashing!
Oh! To be so expensive!
Sean has often joked about getting a few more wives. To which I have said, "Great! One to cook, (roti, says he) one to clean, one to do the laundry and ironing. I, as head wife, will lie about eating chocolates and issuing orders and instructions from my boudoir."
Perhaps he is worried that I might get fat and lazy, but he has never followed up on the more-wives thing.
Anyway, I have to say that I totally do NOT approve of this new love in my husband's life. She cannot cook, (not even roti), and has not lifted a finger to do a stitch of housework. She encourages fast driving, uses plenty of electricity, and makes weird noises. She does babysit, I'll give her that, but I don't like her methods. As wife material, she is pretty worthless.
Worst of all, I think the children like her more than they like me. After all I have done for them!!!
And what recourse do I have now? Having agreed to this, I cannot now cast her out into the street. Should I phone her motherboard, in the time-honoured way? Leave a mug of poisoned Milo in a precarious place near to her oh-so-attractive joystick? Go shopping for sexy panties? (no, not for HER, for ME!)
Or, I could call out the Big Guns, and phone my mother-in-law and tell her that a hussy who can't even cook is vying for her son's attention. Fatima would be over here with a posse of Aunts in under an hour. They can take that lazy lesser wife out into the yard and give her what for.
And I? The wife who bears plentiful handsome healthy sons? Shall remain inside, pursing my lips and raising my eyebrows at all the goings-on. My chastened husband will know who is the true keeper of his heart, his sexy laundress and chef supreme. I will boil him some spagetti and kiss him tenderly, while the newly humbled lesser wife sits weeping in a corner, relegated to making photocopies and helping with homework.
Order shall be restored once more!
Oh! To be talked to in such dulcet tones!
Oh! To gain attention by just sitting there flashing!
Oh! To be so expensive!
Sean has often joked about getting a few more wives. To which I have said, "Great! One to cook, (roti, says he) one to clean, one to do the laundry and ironing. I, as head wife, will lie about eating chocolates and issuing orders and instructions from my boudoir."
Perhaps he is worried that I might get fat and lazy, but he has never followed up on the more-wives thing.
Anyway, I have to say that I totally do NOT approve of this new love in my husband's life. She cannot cook, (not even roti), and has not lifted a finger to do a stitch of housework. She encourages fast driving, uses plenty of electricity, and makes weird noises. She does babysit, I'll give her that, but I don't like her methods. As wife material, she is pretty worthless.
Worst of all, I think the children like her more than they like me. After all I have done for them!!!
And what recourse do I have now? Having agreed to this, I cannot now cast her out into the street. Should I phone her motherboard, in the time-honoured way? Leave a mug of poisoned Milo in a precarious place near to her oh-so-attractive joystick? Go shopping for sexy panties? (no, not for HER, for ME!)
Or, I could call out the Big Guns, and phone my mother-in-law and tell her that a hussy who can't even cook is vying for her son's attention. Fatima would be over here with a posse of Aunts in under an hour. They can take that lazy lesser wife out into the yard and give her what for.
And I? The wife who bears plentiful handsome healthy sons? Shall remain inside, pursing my lips and raising my eyebrows at all the goings-on. My chastened husband will know who is the true keeper of his heart, his sexy laundress and chef supreme. I will boil him some spagetti and kiss him tenderly, while the newly humbled lesser wife sits weeping in a corner, relegated to making photocopies and helping with homework.
Order shall be restored once more!
Comments
When my husband finished restoring an antique convertible, and was buffing it lovingly in the driveway (IN FRONT OF MY PARENTS!!), my mother eyeballed me, and asked quietly,
"Do you have room in your bed for that?"
Men and their g-d toys...
xo CGF
SHE have to come to the restaurant (movies, shopping) with us?" :)
shar
;)