How’s Mrs H, Mikey? Mine’s all peri-menopaused up. When she comes through the door I don’t know if I’m getting shagged or stabbed. I spent a whole day last week, scrubbing the fuck out of our gaff while she was overseas with work. Hoovering, floor mopping, dishwasher emptied, washing AND ironing…I even brushed the hound. There I was, standing as proud as punch when she walked into the kitchen…I was beaming. Do you know what the first words out of her ungrateful oestrogen-riddled mouth were? Well I’ll tell you. It went like this…she picked a cloth up, walked over to the fridge and screamed, ‘what the fuck are these fingerprints all over the fridge door-handle you fucking pig?’
In that moment I thought of you and, hand on heart, wished that she could join your wife in a wheelchair based future.