.......so she walks in from an Asda attack and says "Mmmm, what smells nice?" That'll be the Sandalwood.
Phew. I'm a bag of nerves today anyway. I have my six monthly diabetic appointment in a few hours.
Don't get me wrong. I had all my blood samples and stuff taken a couple of weeks ago, and that's no problem. Liver function, kidney function, platelets, waist and hight (BMI - Body Mass Index has been discredited). How much do I smoke, how much do I drink, yada yada yada...
"And how do you and Bear get on, well, you know..." Now remember, Bear goes with me everywhere. So I did the Mr Spock thing with the eyebrow. This one, I have to get right. I wasn't going to look at Bear.
It's a valid question. I am a gentleman of a certain age, with a wife ten years younger. I was going to be asked this if I was alone, and I ain't allowed.... The alternative when your hitting your mid fifties is an irrational fear of anyone wearing Marigold rubber gloves. Snnnap. Snap.
Gentlemen of a certain age are often required a prostate check. Google it. Diplomacy mode on.
Well, what? As we left, Bear cuddled me and said "you can be sweet you can" All together now. Ahhhh :)
I'm worried about them checking my feet. Feet fiddlin'. Can't take it. I do, but I can't stand them being touched, and they ask me to close my eyes and poke my toes with something slightly pointy to make sure I can feel it.
And I'm not even ticklish. I might even have a stiff whisky first. Wish me luck, dear reader.