Objects of Desire...

It's been a tough day at work with a very tough martial arts class along the way. So I leave work early and go home for a soak in the bath because a soak in the bath is what you do when you're middle-aged and aching.

The Missus comes home while I am mid-soak and we share news and events from our respective days before I get out of the bath to dry myself.

I come out of the bath wrapped in a towel and the Missus is in the hallway. So I drop the towel and adopt a 'sexy' pose and catch her eye.
'You own all this...' I state as I display my wares.

There is a look of slight disappointment. Her usual objects of desire are black athletes such as Dwayne Chambers or singers like Jimmy Cliff or mixed martial artists such as Anderson Silva. By comparison I am, perhaps, a poor substitute in terms of athleticism, muscle definition and coolness.

'Do I have a receipt?' she asks.
'Why? Do you want a different model?' I inquire.
'No. I just may want it in a different colour...'

This is how love sometimes works.