Having consumed rather too much rum whilst watching the annual
spectacle that is Embassy world darts, I staggered upstairs to bed.
The wife ( for it is she ) had sneakily placed all manner of obstacles
in the way, thus ensuring I didn't sneak into bed at some unearthly
hour and claim that I had, in fact, come to bed just after she dozed
off.

Nett result is that I stumbled on what felt like a pile of washing...
and instinctively reached out my hand to prevent myself taking a
semi-inebriated tumble.

Unfortunately, for me, my hand came to rest on a marrow that I'd
stashed in the bedroom ( we have no heating upstairs...so each bedroom
is graced with a number of these fat, green beasts ).
Even more unfortunately the marrow turned out to be, well, on the
turn... and my hand split the marrow with a curiously satisfying
'splooosh'.

About a second later the light went on - and my wife was entertained
by the spectacle of a bleary-eyed, naked man holding up a hand with
the dripping remains of half a rancid marrow attached to it.

Her words?
'Please tell me this is a nightmare'.

The only reply I could think of was 'Well, there goes another dinner'.




--
Stephen Howard - Woodwind repairs & period restorations
http://www.shwoodwind.co.uk
Emails to: showard{who is at}shwoodwind{dot}co{dot}uk