Keeping a lid on my laughter

If you are a regular reader of this column and you are female, please hand the paper to your partner and ask them to read it.

Ashley Robinson.

If you are a regular reader of this column (hoping there is someone out there) and you are female, please hand the paper to your partner and ask them to read it.

This is a breakthrough of epic proportions, but first some history.

I have been married for 36 years this year and apparently I still don’t know a few things about how the house is run.

Some of the mysteries to me are the Tupperware cupboard where things go.

Apparently there is a place for every little dish, not just thrown in anywhere.

Then it’s the same for dishes and containers.

When they are out of the cupboard and in play, I am still unsure on how they actually work – how the lid goes on, for instance, or even finding the lid.

And then there are cakes and stuff that you buy at the supermarket with that wagon wheel-type lid that I have no idea how to get off … but, more importantly, get back on – to the point that I am questioned about why I haven’t eaten something that apparently was bought for me but will never be purchased again unless I eat what’s left in the container.

The thing I is, I am too frightened to open it up as I know I won’t be able to get the bloody lid back on.

A bit like the Bermuda Triangle: a mystery.

Then there is the washing up.

If I do it, it is examined with a fine-tooth comb like a forensic policeman.

If there is something missed, it will be found.

And there is letting the water out of the sink.

The plug hole is inspected to see if there are any food stuffs in it.

Even tying up the rubbish bag is done in a particular way and certainly not my way.

Now for all of the above, there is a reckoning.

It will either be the finger saying, “Come here. I have something to show you”, or lately a photo has been brought in while I am reading a book to show me what I haven’t done correctly.

So it is with great pleasure I share this with you.

I got summonsed to the aviary the other afternoon with the familiar tone and “I just want to show you something”.

Now, I’m thinking: “What the …? What have I done substandard out here?”.

But no. Old mate wanted to show me something.

The lid had come off her seed container and gone all over her head, blouse, bra and everything else.

A lid that she had not put on properly.

It was a joyous moment.

Even better was that I had to get the leaf blower to blow all the seed off her hair and clothes.

It was a golden moment.

Apparently at the time, she had a bird in her hand so was at the mercy of the wayward container.

The seed was everywhere and I mean everywhere.

This was possibly the first time in history she had made a mistake apart from 10-11-1984 when she said “I do”.

As astronaut Neil Armstrong said: “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind”.

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