I just saw the time and thought crap , my husband will be home soon and I haven’t daved my under carriage (vagina) elbow greased the fish bowl , tried to coax a pigeon into a hole the size of a lady bird , done any food shopping (face masks, lenor, useless candle jars for my new plants) sprayed the dogs bed with lithium ,or even gave my tap a hand job(wipes it with cif trying not to do it in my best Nigella sexpot voice ) but it’s hard soooooo hard .nor have a fingered a pop tart .....and then I remembered . It’s not 1942 I haven’t got a husband , my child has a different surname to me and if I did have a Jamie he could get his own bleeping dinner
*unhooks bra and opens chocolate orange* . It’s not Terrys it’s mine