I am worried by the Missus. She has started knitting and is collecting apples from the apple tree in our garden and threatening to bake pies. I approach her about this and she starts pondering our move to the country and how it may affect her in future.
'Of course now I've moved to the country I'll probably start wearing gingham and behaving like a Stepford Wife...'
'So you're mine to command?'
'Absolutely...'
'So you won't be quite so opinionated, sarcastic, vicious and demeaning towards me?'
'No...
'Brilliant. Well... for my part now you're a country wife you can forget about those female orgasms. You'll have no need for them now you're out of London. So you can forget about your fancy metropolitan sexual ways...'
'Between you and me, love, I forgot those about the same time we got together...'
Ouch...
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