because the cork broke in half as she
half-wrenched, half-twisted it out the bottle.
'Fuck!'
'It doesn't matter,' I said, 'it's perfectly salvageable.'
She handed the bottle to me.
'You see,' she said, 'I'm shit at everything.'
'That's not true. You can't extrapolate any supposed
inadequacies from the dodgy cork on a bottle of
Chablis.'
'It's symbolic.'
'No it's not,' I insisted. 'You'll be believing in
astrology next.'
'Perhaps I should,' she said, and then a smile crossed
her face. In a few seconds, the evening newspaper had
been extracted from her handbag and she was flicking
through for the horoscopes.
'Here we go,' she said. 'Taurus. That's me. "Although
you have been having some work troubles recently, the
rise of Saturn in your constellation will mean they will
soon come to an end. In the meantime, you must
ensure that you keep a calm head, and show others that
your strong will and determination can see you through
bad times as well as good." '
Sally looked up, triumphantly.
'Wow,' I went. 'Pretty accurate for a load of dross.'
'I'll say. Perhaps there's something in it after all.'
I snorted.
'All right,' said Sally, 'let's read Leo then.'
I sighed. I HATE astrology, hate the infantile
moronic illogical turdy basis of it all, despise the very
notion that if the moon can have an effect on the sea,
then it's not unreasonable to think that the planets and
stars might have some effect on us humans, as aren't we
90 per cent made of water blah blah. Honestly, what a
load of crap. Listen people, the moon has an effect on
tides because of the changes in its gravitational pull on
the earth's surface. There's no possible way that the
stars can affect the human body in the same – or any –
way.
'Leo,' Sally began. '"This is a time for going ahead
with new projects. The Moon in Uranus [I think that's
what she said] means a time of great creation and
productivity. Now would be a great opportunity to take
a risk and just go for it. With the right drive and energy,
you have a great chance of succeeding." '
'Aha,' I went. 'This augurs well for Wonderhubby .'
'Oh God,' said Sally. 'Not that.'
'Look,' I said, triumphantly tapping the newspaper
with my fork, 'it's in the stars.'
'But I thought you thought this was all bollocks.'
'Nope,' I said. 'I think it's brilliant.'
And, much to my later disgust, I realised that I wasn't
being entirely sarcastic.
Wednesday 6 February
I think the children must have picked up on my good
mood engendered by imminent fame and fortune.
After school today, Peter asked why I kept dancing
around the kitchen when I was cooking their supper.
'It's because I'm very happy,' I said.
'Yes, but why are you dancing?'
'Because when you're happy, you sometimes feel like
dancing.'
A quick frown, and then: 'Do people feel like dancing
when they are sad?'
Now it was my turn for a quick frown.
'Probably not.'
'Do you get sad daddy?'
'Sometimes, but at the moment, I'm very happy.'
'Why?'
'Because Daddy may be making a TV programme.'
'A TV programme! What about? Soldiers?'
'No, about being a Daddy.'
Peter's crest fell.
'Oh.'
'But you and Daisy can be in it as well.'
'On TV? Can we be on TV?'
'Yes!'
'TV! TV!' Peter chanted.
'TV! TV!' Daisy chorused.
'Can we watch TV?' asked Peter.
''An 'e 'otch TV?' echoed Daisy.
'No,' I said.
A collective whine until I bought them off with the
promise of TV after supper. It occurs to me that
Sally may not want the children on the TV programme.
And now I'm worrying about whether Sally
might want to be on it. Chances of that: 0.05 percent.
I shall need to tread carefully, and certainly won't
mention it until the programme is in the bag. If it is in
the bag.
Sunday 10 February
Last night, after a perfectly lovely day en famille , Sally
and I had the most enormous row about WonderHubby .
(Notice how I now give it a capital H midword – looks
more trendy, I think.) So much for reaching that
stage of marriage in which we know what not
half-wrenched, half-twisted it out the bottle.
'Fuck!'
'It doesn't matter,' I said, 'it's perfectly salvageable.'
She handed the bottle to me.
'You see,' she said, 'I'm shit at everything.'
'That's not true. You can't extrapolate any supposed
inadequacies from the dodgy cork on a bottle of
Chablis.'
'It's symbolic.'
'No it's not,' I insisted. 'You'll be believing in
astrology next.'
'Perhaps I should,' she said, and then a smile crossed
her face. In a few seconds, the evening newspaper had
been extracted from her handbag and she was flicking
through for the horoscopes.
'Here we go,' she said. 'Taurus. That's me. "Although
you have been having some work troubles recently, the
rise of Saturn in your constellation will mean they will
soon come to an end. In the meantime, you must
ensure that you keep a calm head, and show others that
your strong will and determination can see you through
bad times as well as good." '
Sally looked up, triumphantly.
'Wow,' I went. 'Pretty accurate for a load of dross.'
'I'll say. Perhaps there's something in it after all.'
I snorted.
'All right,' said Sally, 'let's read Leo then.'
I sighed. I HATE astrology, hate the infantile
moronic illogical turdy basis of it all, despise the very
notion that if the moon can have an effect on the sea,
then it's not unreasonable to think that the planets and
stars might have some effect on us humans, as aren't we
90 per cent made of water blah blah. Honestly, what a
load of crap. Listen people, the moon has an effect on
tides because of the changes in its gravitational pull on
the earth's surface. There's no possible way that the
stars can affect the human body in the same – or any –
way.
'Leo,' Sally began. '"This is a time for going ahead
with new projects. The Moon in Uranus [I think that's
what she said] means a time of great creation and
productivity. Now would be a great opportunity to take
a risk and just go for it. With the right drive and energy,
you have a great chance of succeeding." '
'Aha,' I went. 'This augurs well for Wonderhubby .'
'Oh God,' said Sally. 'Not that.'
'Look,' I said, triumphantly tapping the newspaper
with my fork, 'it's in the stars.'
'But I thought you thought this was all bollocks.'
'Nope,' I said. 'I think it's brilliant.'
And, much to my later disgust, I realised that I wasn't
being entirely sarcastic.
Wednesday 6 February
I think the children must have picked up on my good
mood engendered by imminent fame and fortune.
After school today, Peter asked why I kept dancing
around the kitchen when I was cooking their supper.
'It's because I'm very happy,' I said.
'Yes, but why are you dancing?'
'Because when you're happy, you sometimes feel like
dancing.'
A quick frown, and then: 'Do people feel like dancing
when they are sad?'
Now it was my turn for a quick frown.
'Probably not.'
'Do you get sad daddy?'
'Sometimes, but at the moment, I'm very happy.'
'Why?'
'Because Daddy may be making a TV programme.'
'A TV programme! What about? Soldiers?'
'No, about being a Daddy.'
Peter's crest fell.
'Oh.'
'But you and Daisy can be in it as well.'
'On TV? Can we be on TV?'
'Yes!'
'TV! TV!' Peter chanted.
'TV! TV!' Daisy chorused.
'Can we watch TV?' asked Peter.
''An 'e 'otch TV?' echoed Daisy.
'No,' I said.
A collective whine until I bought them off with the
promise of TV after supper. It occurs to me that
Sally may not want the children on the TV programme.
And now I'm worrying about whether Sally
might want to be on it. Chances of that: 0.05 percent.
I shall need to tread carefully, and certainly won't
mention it until the programme is in the bag. If it is in
the bag.
Sunday 10 February
Last night, after a perfectly lovely day en famille , Sally
and I had the most enormous row about WonderHubby .
(Notice how I now give it a capital H midword – looks
more trendy, I think.) So much for reaching that
stage of marriage in which we know what not
Similar Books
