‘It was the strangest thing. I came in for breakfast and the wife had glued herself to the ceiling. She had her eyes open but she wouldn’t speak, she just stared straight ahead like she’d been brainwashed or something. It was totally weird. Shouldn’t you be off to work?’ I asked her. No response, not a dicky-bird. She just hung there. ‘Be like that then.’ I said, I had my breakfast and got ready for the office. ‘I’m out with the lads tonight.’ I told her. ‘If I don’t make it home, don’t stay up… or rather come down.’ I was still getting the silent treatment when I walked out the door.

‘Keith, that is well bizarre mate. So who’s gonna up pick the kids?’ Trevor pulled his finger out of his nose and examined it.

‘I dunno, I’m down the bookies after work, how can I do it? I’m not paying for a cab neither.’

‘My wife did something similar,’ Said Trevor, ‘she moved into the attic and refused to come down. She’s been up there eight years now. I have to text her if I want something.’

‘Why did she do that?’

‘I dunno, I never asked.’

Lance looked up from his computer screen. ‘You guys are lucky. I came home from work last year and my wife started acting like a chicken.’

‘You what?’ Trevor scrunched up his face.

‘Yeah, you couldn’t make it up could you? She’d bought a chicken suit and everything. The doctor came round, he said there was nothing wrong with her. I’m sure she was just trying to annoy me.’

‘You see the thing about my wife,’ said Keith, ‘she’s always got to be different, so dramatic about everything. Everyone has at least one affair in their marriage don’t they? I mean, I know I’m no saint.’

‘Don’t blame yourself mate, you’re a good bloke. Anyway… you still coming out tonight? I’ve heard they’ve got a stripper gram for Gary’s birthday.’









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