Lamentations continue

I'ts been a funny week, again.
Tensions in the Struthius household have been exacerbated by the following:-
1. An invitation to watch a friends play with their wee.
2. Upsetting the Memsahib (my dear lady-wife) by recounting a story of our wedding day
3. Failing to read the instruction booklet accompanying my latest car.

Last weekend found the mem and I visiting good friends where we were invited to play with their wee. Now, this is not a gross perversion for consenting adults involving bodily waste; it is a game (almost certainly Japanese) which requires the participant to hold a handset and flail his (or her) arms and generally cavort in front of the television in order to simulate sporting activity, (in this case tennis) following which, the machine gives an assessment of the age of the participant.
Considerable prompting and cries of "party pooper" eventually persuaded me to "have a go". It will come as no surprise, therefore, to those who know me that an assessment of my age based on speed and agility finally translated as being a few years older than "Heinrich" the 307 year old moribund tortoise of 17, Acaia Crescent, Galapagos! The mem is mortified.

An amusing but innocent story which I later recounted caused a frosting of marital harmony as I had not realised that the "D" notice slapped upon it 40 years ago by the mem. was still in place. It involved me, the mem, wedding photographs and a 6" slide rule, (do slide rules still exist?) I had intended to tell the story at the recent troglodytic wedding but given the reaction of "She who must be obeyed" it's a bloody good job that time ran out. I am, consequently, in the domus canem; woof woof.

On Wednesday I returned my car of 2 months (The Popemobile) to the salesroom with a faulty air vent. This slot on the dashboard had failed to produce wind since day 1. It is with a certain discomfiture that I must report that the "air vent" turned out to be a record machine for compact discs. This boob was well received at the garage who, to the mem's further mortification, have promised to treasure this story and recount it for the entertainment of future customers. My precarious intellectual standing in the eyes of the mem has dipped to an almost all time low.

On the whole, not a great week,
regards, A Pismo Clam B.Sc (Gt. Wittering) failed