On facing pages in today's Guardian G2 section:
I don't complain when I'm ill, but my husband never stops:
I am now eight months pregnant and have many of the usual symptoms: a sore back, sore feet, cramps and so on. I am still working full-time and I make sure that my colleagues are not bothered by my pregnancy. At home, when I tell my husband
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I know you're a sex counsellor and not a rifts-in-time-and-space counsellor, but, hey, you cope with Billy Connolly, so I figured it was worth a shot.
Recently I discovered, to my horror, that my husband has been snatched away by agents of some unknown temporal force and replaced with a clone of John Ruskin. I wouldn't mind this, as the Arts and Crafts movement has always been an interest of mine, but he seems to have been brought up on a diet of urban legends, and he is suggesting some arts and crafts that I don't feel inclined to deal with.
Not only this, but he wishes to involve me in a plot to go back and 'correct' some hidden Turner drawings. As I write this, I can see him out of the corner of my eye trimming his beard and gazing lovingly at a bottle of Tipp-Ex. Please send help.
Yours,
Effie
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J. E. M.
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Effie
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Me too - was just reading that on the tube and was quite surprised at her advice! And yes, I wonder how neat and well-groomed he is...
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Yes. Yes you are.
'I believe this is all part of good grooming.'
0.o
Talk about 21st century problems.
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