The pile of ironing in our utility room is only one visible representation of my workload this week. I haven't got any time to blog today except that I must share this with you before I forget. Of course, it's also a delaying tactic as I should be hoovering right now but I'm sure I will hoover all the better for having got this out of my system.
On Sunday, we went to the supermarket. Now, I've begun to find it rather irritating how there are now car washing people there, ready to leap on you as soon as you get out of the car with your head full of shopping lists. Anyway, I was driving and my husband was in the passenger seat. As we got out of the car, the nearest car wash person was on his side and they shouted out 'You want car wash lady?'. I should explain that their view of me would have been completely obscured by the height of our people carrier and the blacked-out windows (you'd want to be anonymous if you drove a people carrier too) so they were definitely directing their question at him. Oh, how we laughed, especially as he does have an extremely deep voice, even for a man. In fact, I can't remember the last time I laughed so much. Even the children repeating the 'You want car wash lady?' line over and over didn't diminish its impact. Eventually, the tears on my face dried and we went shopping.
On the way out of the supermarket, we stopped to get some diesel. I went in to pay and the cashier said to me 'Would you like a VAT receipt for that, Sir?'. So now we're even. I'm married to a lady-boy and he's married to an extremely butch woman. The implications are endless. We could swap clothes. Coincidence maybe? Perhaps. And then I went to take our daughter to gymnastics the next day and there was a sign:
Do you think I'm being a little over-sensitive?