It was 7am and the sun was shining fiercely through my bedroom. My wife was as ever, putting on the slap and getting herself ready for another triumphant day at the office, a simple 50-minute transformation!
I waited downstairs in the study for the moment to show its sorry face and it came like clockwork. She will dry her hair at exactly 7.30am and that little job will take about 10 minutes, on and off.
The key was this; while she is drying her hair she cant leave the room, it’s a military operation getting her blonde Medusa locks just right and feeding the snakes, but not as big a military operation as mine was going to be.
First blast on the blower and off I went like a missile, darting upstairs and rolling from a high altitude parachute jump into bedroom number two where she charges her mobile, and with one swift movement it was in my hand. The blower stopped.
This is where it could all go horribly wrong. While she is drying her hair, it's impossible to be in two places at once, but….
Off it went again and trembling like an alcoholic looking for whisky at a bottle bank I take off the battery and release the SIM. I’m behind schedule due to the trembles, but the battery is back on, phone looks normal, SIM in hand. I’m starting to sweat slightly but take an unhurried walk back down to the study like I don’t have a care in the world.
Blower on again, and I dash to the PC and fiddle endlessly with the stupid USB thingy. I’m panicking-it wont go in. Took a deep breath and its good to go. Ran the program. Download the info. Hey presto and back upstairs.
The dryer turns off and the door opens on the landing as I walk up the stairs looking like I’ve been on a ten mile hike (I should have trained for this first). “Have you seen my…..are you OK….are you having a heart attack?”. I’d bet she’d love that. “Mouth to mouth? - Oh not right now darling”. I appease her and the conversation stumbles as it usually does, and she goes downstairs. I have only seconds to get the SIM back in and the battery back in place before she comes back up again.
Then I remember, I left the computer screen on with the program results still showing, and she is just about to walk past it and immediately win in the divorce courts on the grounds of harassment, paranoia or both. I can only do one thing and call her back upstairs, but only to find me with her SIM card in one hand and the battery in the other.
I call her urgently. She comes up. I slot everything back into place with milliseconds to spare. My hearts pounding out of my chest and I fall exhausted to the floor in a red faced sweaty heap, hands uncontrollably trembling. “Oh my god” she says, “you really are having a heart attack……..”