I need a new duvet. I presume with all my thrashing, sweating, nightmare struggling and wild sex (Yeah right!) my old duvet is burst. I know this because each morning I awake there is a floor full of feathers, the place looks like I punched a wee duck to death in the middle of the night.

The hoover refuses to suck them up??? I cannot believe I have to hand pick feathers, for some reason my very good ‘sooky’ hoover cannot deal with the wee white fluffy duck down and just rolls over and over them in a relentless noisy growl and has to admit defeat as the brushes in the machine only re-arrange them all over the carpet.

I wonder what would happen if I tried to hoover a live duck? Ok good feeling gone! Sorry!

Weather was nice so I decided to wear short linen summer trousers and those nice sandals I never wear lying in the wardrobe…’why do I never wear those sandals?’ I thought to myself as I slip slapped my way into town with a warm sunny breeze refreshing my old hairy winter legs ( maybe a shave would have been good?). The sun makes us smile.

Then after 20 minutes my toes bled as the suede straps on my ‘Pretty Sandals’ became evil devil tools and managed to cut a sharp line across my big toe, so severe it even took those big long hairs that manage to grow ‘Hobbit’ like on my feet.

I was in agony, blood soaked into my sandals and I hobbled home, well not quite home. I managed to get plasters wrapped around my wound and looked like a freak and managed to go shopping. I bought lots of summer tops because the minute the sun shines, I assume I need tee shirts and feel that I have none in my closet (which must be wrong because I do this every year! Where are they all?).

Husband called and asked me what I was doing.

me-“Nothing much, my toes are falling off and I have just maxed the credit card!”

him-“How the fuck did you max the credit card?!!

me-“Fuck you, cant you ask how my toes are falling off? No it’s all about money with you!”

him-“Tell me more about the credit card, trust me when you get home I am going to snip your fingers off, who cares about your toes?”

me-“I am joking about the credit card moany arse, but now I know where your loyalty lies….my feet hurt in these sandals and you dont care”

him-“Did you wear those pink flappy sandals that cut your feet last year?”

me-“How did you know the pink sandals cut my feet?”

him-“You did the same thing with those shoes last Edinburgh Fringe and moaned for a week….see I do listen to you”

me-“Ok thanks, see you later weirdo”

He worries I will max the credit card, but that’s silly – I shop in Primark and it would take ten hours to spend £10,0000 in there as everything is so cheap and I cant shop for ten hours when my feet bleed.

Maybe I could do it in trainers though….!_
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