HOME THOUGHTS FROM A FRAUD

The first inkling I had of what retirement would be like was when I found myself buying a pair of bright yellow 'Marigolds'. For the unititiated, these are rubber household gloves used when washing dishes or for other domestic chores. Naturally I only wear them when no-one can see me. Except of course for Dearly Beloved who no doubt derives some perverse pleasure in witnessing my indignity.

I jest.

I have no problem with helping out at home and anyway, I was forewarned. I attended not one but two pre-retirement courses (not that I was eager to stop work or anything you understand!) and the first thing I learned there proved to be very true. We were told that in cases where our wives were still working when we retired, we would be left lists. Each morning there would be a verbal or written list of tasks to be completed before our spouses arrived home - and so it came to pass.

I have become intimately acquainted with the dishwasher and with the hoover. You can stop thinking your smutty thought right now! I have my own apron. I also took a crash course in how to put up the ironing board which thankfully I am rarely called upon to use.

However, I have a confession to make. I'm a bit of a fraud. My apparent inability to fathom the workings of the washing machine are shall we say, a trifle embellished. I trust you dear reader to keep this secret to yourself and on no account let it reach the ears of my dear wife.