On Sunday, don’t ask me how, but my husband and I got onto discussing my uterus.
“I know I should have the vaccination,” said I.
“Then why don’t you?”
“Because my sister said it hurt,” said I, pouting. “Plus, I don’t get it for free. I’m just that little bit old. I have to pay for it.”
Adam looked at me witheringly. “I wonder if your miserly limits could ever possibly be found.”
Then, because he is male, his mind wandered elsewhere while I went on to provide further information regarding that little jab.
“It’s for the HPV virus.”
“What?” Adam’s attention came back to me. “The HP virus? Hewlett Packard? That’s why I’m an IBM man, myself. You can’t trust anybody else.”
Riiiigggghht.
