The Cruel Wife

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Imagine the scenario:

Wife kissing handsome husband goodbye at the door as he leaves to go to work.

Wife sees handsome husband wearing the tie that she had tried to wash, instead of, God forbid, paying money and sending it to the dry cleaners.

Silk ties do not like being washed.

Silk ties return to the tie rack neither cleaner nor the same shape, or indeed size.

Wife thought she had discreetly (secretly) thrown away said ruined tie.

The moral dilemma? Should I have let him go to work with dodgy tie, or admit to the consequences of my money-pinching ways?”

I think I might have made the wrong choice …

“Why in Gods name did you wash it?” he spluttered, eyebrows rising dramatically.

“Umm, I thought it was polyester?” I blatantly lied. His eyebrows lifting even further confirmed he didn’t believe me. “I don’t have polyester ties!” he spat through somewhat gritted teeth.

“Well, it was dirty. You had dribbled on it.” I said. The best form of defence is attack. Wrong course of action however.

A stomping back upstairs, roughly removing both coat and suit jacket ensued amid much huffing and puffing. I followed cautiously.

The new and clean tie appeared to be rather problematic in putting on. This caused further and considerably noisier huffing and puffing. “It takes a very precise and careful hand to tie a tie properly,” he informed me.

“Oh,” says I, duly informed. “And, um for how long have you been practising this um ‘art-form’?” I question innocently.

“Since I was eight,” he mutters.

I collapsed in a heap of guffawing laughter, and a small twitch of his lip and a wiggle of his nose confirmed I was forgiven. “I’ll give you a lesson in tying a tie if you like!” I giggled hysterically. “Pah! I’ll give you blasted lessons!” he laughed feigning indignation.

“I’ll bin this one then,” I giggled, holding up the mis-shaped offending tie.

“Pah! It’s got years of life left in it!” he laughed, trying to snatch it from me.

“Not with a socking great rip in it, it hasn’t!” I shouted, running down the stairs with it.

“You wouldn’t!” he laughed and chased me to the front door where for the second time this umorning, I kissed him gently and held him close. “I love you” he whispered, “So very much.”

Katie xx

So. Should I have,

a) Let him go to work in a grim tie

b) Admitted the error of my ways, but been slightly more apologetic

c) Told him it was his own fault for having silk non-washable ties and polyester would suffice

d) Tied the tie for him whilst changing a plug, reading a map and reciting the periodic table.

Or, something else …?