Second Helpings

Pank Lurve

Sis and I went to see a Medium when she was over here. We do this from time to time; not because we necessarily believe everything they say, but it is interesting, can be amusing and it makes a change. We’ve never actually been together before though and hoped the strength of our sisterly bond might bring out the best in the Medium. Not to be; we discovered this one was one of those airy-fairy, arty-farty types who just make vague statements and hint at other weird treatments such as tapas acupuncture and DNA healing, whatever they might be.

However, with no provocation she did state she felt my husband is a rather sharp and bad-tempered man who gives me little space or privacy and offered me some advice. No, not to buy a carving knife or seek out a solicitor, but to stay calm and send out positive energy to him, in the hope of altering his attitude. Her actual words were, ‘Send out pink love to him.’ Yeah, right.

So, yesterday being the celebration of lurve, I thought I’d try putting her suggestion to the test. Last night hubby sat as always watching his beloved television while I tapped away at the computer. True to form, after a while the barrage of questions started.

‘Where are you going tomorrow?’

‘I’ve told you once…erm’ No Scarlett, don’t be sarcastic. Remember…

Pink Love…Pink Love…Pink Love…

‘I’m going to the hairdressers dear. What about you?’

‘Do you want a drink?

‘Have you got any eyes…erm.’ Stop it Scarlett. Concentrate…

Pink Love…Pink Love… Pink Love…

‘I’ve already got one thank you.’

‘Have you got James Blunt’s latest album?’

‘No, I bloody well told you I’d get it…erm.’ Calm down Scarlett. Keep thinking…

Pink Love…Pink Love…Pink Love…

‘No, but I’ll get it next week.’

‘Have you heard any of the songs from it?’

‘You think I have time to…erm.’ Focus Scarlett. Don’t give in…

Pink Love…Pink Love…Pink Love…

‘Only the one that was in the charts.’

‘Who are you talking to? Sheila?’

‘No, Robbie Williams. Who the hell…erm.’ Naughty Scarlett. Behave…

Pink Love…Pink Love…Pink Love…

‘Yes dear.’

After another ten minutes and countless questions I thought it best I escape to the kitchen and relieve my tension by swearing into the biscuit barrel. Predictably, hubby decided he needed to come into the kitchen as well. Whatever he wanted just so happened to be in the same square foot of carpet as where I was standing. Next thing his heavy- soled foot trod on my toe.

It was at that moment the last of the Pink Love evaporated and the air turned a different colour. Oh well, I always preferred blue to pink and you can’t accuse me of not trying.