Mewling is an unattractive feature in a grown man.
Big Red has been banished to the verandah to wallow in self pity and contemplate the error of his ways. Yet again he has allowed himself to fry his virgin skin in the Bali sun without so much as a by your leave from the one that this invariably affects the most - me. I have less than sympathetically slapped aloe vera all over his back, seriously contemplating just enough grit from around the nozzle of the tube to help him reflect on the severity of his wicked ways. Just for good measure I have tut-tutted and sighed heavily throughout the whole process. Sometimes I think I am destined for greater things....
From my vantage point I can see him struggling to make himself comfortable on the unforgiving rattan lounger. I can only liken the whole scene to that of a giant Vita Wheat biscuit, but instead of Vegemite worms, aloe vera is extruding from the waffle weave webbing. It has got to hurt.
It all started on the beach this morning. Big Red spotted a large colourful eagle fluttering in the sky, and like a moth drawn to a flame, he was off chasing the end of the rainbow where lay his pot of gold - the kite man.
Big Red loves kites. Over the years he has bought quite a few. He watches the kite flyers on the beach and marvels at the way they effortlessly keep the kites aloft. The more intricate the design the greater his fascination. Spanish galleons, Koi fish, you name, we own it.
Funnily enough, apart from a few times when Big Red has ticked me off and I have told him to go fly one, he has never in fact flown the real deal. At least two of his purchases have fallen foul to Australian Customs and one came to grief in the overhead locker. The one time when he decided to take one out of its wrapper it was so tangled that he gave up in frustration. Big Red fails to see the theme here. So impulsively off he heads to the beach yet again.
Well, suffice to say it has all ended in tears. I am sorely tempted to go and find the bow and arrow man and just put us all out of our misery. I've often wondered who buys these things - now I know.
All hail the long suffering wives.
Miss M