Let's dance...

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So the latest update on the tufted husband is not a good one.  I kindly pointed out to him the spot which the beard trimmer had missed (this involved me sticking my finger on the spot on the back of his head and walking into the bathroom with him three times, before he finally twigged where it was.  Then horror of horrors, the beard trimmer broke before he had a chance to whip off the offending tuft.  So he has spent the weekend cultivating the early stages of a man bun, which at least is quite trendy I suppose.

We continued the theme of our lazy weekend with a lovely hour of Strictly on Saturday night, where over takeaway pizza, we had a most pleasant discussion concerning Jonnie Peacock.

'He's amazing considering he's lost his leg', I said.

'He hasn't lost a leg, you daft woman', responded the husband.  'Just look at him go.  He's incredible'.

Not willing to take his disbelief quietly, I insisted with my argument.  'I don't think you're right (see how I avoid the word 'wrong'?  Red rag and bull and all that).  I'm sure that he was in the Paralympics last year'.

'Well, I know that', said the husband,  'but not actually doing anything.  He was just a commentator'.  This was said very slowly with a rolling of the eyes and a deep sigh.

There was then a flashback to Jonnie's dance from the previous week, with his blade in full evidence.  'Well excuse me if I'm speaking out of turn', I calmly said, 'but unless his leg has grown back over the last seven days, I would think it's safe to say that he only has one leg'.

The husband, never one to admit when he's in the wrong then took a different tack, using his questionable humour to wriggle out of an apology.  'Well I reckon you're right about that false leg, but perhaps his foot is real?'  

He did say one sensible thing though as Jonnie did his fabulous Paso Doble.  'I think he's better at dancing on one leg than I am on my two', and then he spoilt it by following up with, 'Oh, and he also has a man bun like the one I will probably have by November if I don't get that tuft sorted'.

Like that makes it all right...


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