G is for

Curled up on the couch we faced each other over breakfast... Him with some horrible concoction involving rare roast beef, tomato sauce, mayo and grilled cheese that he insists is culinary genius on his part and one small slave with scrambled eggs. You know one said conversationally, this is the first morning one actually feels almost human. Pity it's going to be wasted with going to work.

Stay at home He said with a gleam in his eye.

Umm... no, one of us needs to be responsible. Besides it's going to take days to get the arse back into working order after all those bloody antibiotics. It's going to need to be stretched back very gently...

Oh stay He cajoled, we can loaf around together...

And you know He almost had one until this bit...

We can shove the 2.0 in and help warm you up for the main event.

It was there that the little pantomime involving both hands being expanded internally began...

Gentle... there's another word that doesn't mean what He thinks it means L