Tonight the Ultimate Other Half decided to cash in some brownie points. To be honest, his virtual biscuit tin had been overflowing dangerously and something had to be done.
He had given it a thorough thought and came to conclusion that nothing beats a night of rugby in local lad-watering-hole with The Suave Neighbour. Text messages were exchanged and The Fancy Neighbouress negotiated with. The project got green lights.
Thats when The Ultimate Other Half pranced into the family room wearing "Superman wears Paul O'Connell pyjamas" T-shirt in attractive shade of shamrock suffering from overactive thyroid.
"Is this T-shirt OK? Not dirty or anything?"
"Well..." I said.
He turned up the lights so I could see better.
"Ehmm... looks clean enough," I mumbled. T-shirt was several sizes too big and only missed a wee frill on the bottom to pass off as a dress.
Spotting the lack of enthusiasm in my voice he proceeded to tuck the shirt into his jeans.
On a positive side he ceased looking pregnant. On the negative side any innocent bystander couldn't have helped but wonder why he went through all the trouble of nicking Paul O'Connells (or Supermans, who knows) cheap pyjamas and then decided to wear the top part with jeans.
"Does it look better like that?" he asked hopefully.
Thank Heavens I've never had any aspirations to pursue a career in international relations. Current delicate enough balance would have been long destroyed by some of my utterly unelegant blurts.
"It's positively vile!" I announced.
The Ultimate Other Half raced out of the room to change a T-shirt. I panicked.
"Oh, don't bother! I wouldn't care!" I shouted encouragingly.
A split second later I wanted to bang my head against the monitor, only it's a flat screen one and doesn't really help much as far as whipping brains back into shape is concerned.
Luckily (as I have mentioned before) The Ultimate Other Half is shockingly good-natured and did not present me with divorce papers there and then.
Instead he donned a neatish black T-shirt (13 - Unlucky For The Other Side) and was just in time to prevent Mutt The Mad mauling The Suave Neighbour through the front door glass.
Off they went. To the pub. Hope they'll have fun.
PS. To the Ultimate Other Half: In case you're reading this - Paul O'Connell called. He wants his pyjamas back.
See - he's DISTRESSED!
Saturday 15 September 2007
Diplomatic highlights of Saturday evening
Posted by Foreigner by Default at 21:09
Labels: Foreigner, Fun and games, Love and Marriage, Things Happen
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2 comments:
Fancy neighbouress here, FBD! I have spent the last 5 mins ( Work time.. ) trying to make up something really exciting to add to the Saturday night turn of events you excellently shared on your blog. But the truth is I ate most of the leftovers from baby Ts Bithday party, felt a bit seedee and thought a can a coors would help.. it didnt so i just about managed to chisle off the remaining war paint before flopping into the leaba at approx 10pm on the Saturday nite in question.. I think our other halves may have had more fun.. this fancy neighbouress was not to fancy that evening... interesting to know what FBD got up to in the absence of our mail counterparts... im sure it was much more exciting than in comparisons to the fancy neighbours Briget Jones nite in.
Yeah, I had breathtakingly exciting evening of watching old episodes of Frasier and contemplating setting up a darts board in sitting room so I could practice precision spitting with grape seeds.
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