For better or for worse

It’s been a strange and difficult time in the Struthius household leading to tensions between the Mem and myself.

I have grown used over 40 years of marriage to dismissing Mrs. C’s moithers concerning her appearance and weight in a manner least likely to cause misunderstanding or offence. Thus, in response to the oft asked question, “Am I getting fat?” the wisest response is, “No dearest heart, of course not.”

Following, however, 2 rather large post prandial brandies I fell victim to that hiatus between brain and vocal apparatus that occurs following copious alcohol consumption and feeling in the playful mood that usually precedes unconsciousness responded, when the matter was yet again brought before me, by saying, “No of course not dearest however,.....and here lies the root of the problem,…. I am constantly amazed at how far the human skin will stretch.” Bad Mistake.

Now, and with the benefit of sobriety I realise that given the fact that the Mem had posed the question just prior to retiring and herself in a state of dishabille it was not a good time to attempt levity.

The ensuing barrage contained not only the usual restating of my foibles and failures but an attack on my current tendency to blog which, I learn, only goes to show the world at large what sort of idiot I am (she apparently has more than one category). After several minutes of unbroken criticism she concluded with comment on my alcohol consumption.… “You’ll carry on ‘till it kills you and I’ll be left a widow!”

I, reasonably, pointed out to her the axiomatic nature of the first part of this statement (unless of course she knows something that I don’t, perhaps there is an afterlife) followed by the incorrect assumption contained in the second part which is that I have within my gift the power to leave her something in my will that I don’t possess. What I can leave include, a collection of “Boys Own Comics,” followed by 3 dozen copies of, “Spick and Span” circa 1960 plus my photos of Miss Shirley Eaton both of which assisted me through the delights of night manipulation during puberty. There are my slide rules, one 6” flat and one circular (a reminder of our wedding day). What I cannot leave is a widow!

Time has, however, healed and I’ve been allowed back on the Babbage engine. During this week a further charge has been laid before me but I shall the sad details until the next blog.

I leave you with this thought, “in vino veritas”

Sincerely yours, P.J. Cobbledick