She snuggles up to him under the duvet.
"Happiness," she sighs, "is a warm hairy husband."
"Happiness," he replies, "is a chilly wife on her OWN side of the bed."
Sunday, February 10, 2008
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General witterings; some vaguely literary, many equine, mostly rural. I live in Cumbria in Northern England.
3 comments:
Me too, Sue!
I'm sure that was written in the marriage contract somewhere: "I shall warm thee and comfort thee when thy feet are like blocks of ice." My husband doesn't see it that way either.
Wasn't it Jonathan Gash whose character Lovejoy said that in a lifetime's experience of women he'd "never had a warm one yet"?
I'll bet he never had one as cold as I am. My uncle was a doctor. He once told me he'd felt corpes' hands that were warmer than mine, and that was back when I was 22. It's only gotten worse since...
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