The Perfect Vintage Bottom

As I sat wondering whether it was wrong to be checking out the denim clad bottom of a seventy year old, I had to admit that Robert Redford still filled his jeans splendidly. Despite being older than Snowy, Bobby Blue Eyes has always had a special place in my heart. He also has the honour of being the man I cry most over when he dies in films.

‘Out of Africa’ was the first film that penetrated my belligerent teenage heart and caused a solitary tear to roll down my acne covered cheek. And then there was ‘Up Close and Personal’. ‘Inconsolable’ is probably the best word. My date didn’t quite know what to do as I sat weeping by his side all the way home from the cinema. Each time the Celine Dion theme tune played on the radio, I cried more.

In this morning’s feature length presentation, he sustained a rib injury when a grizzly bear sat on him. In true Redford style, he scraped himself off the floor and checked himself out of the hospital with manly disregard for his spleen. As a hypochondriac, I was shocked by his breezy attitude towards his internal organs and wondered if people like that really existed. I’d be monitoring that spleen for the rest of my days.

Chickie was deposited at Glam-Nan’s and Snowy’s for a sleepover last night. On arrival, Snowy’s Sci-Fi programme was declared rubbish and turned over forthwith and within moments he was dislodged from the warm comfort of his favourite armchair and on all fours in the kitchen, baby wipe in right hand, stinky nappy in left, stinky baby below. Few things amuse me more than a reluctant Snowy being forced to change nappies at the insistence of an over-protective Glam-Nan. As I sat in the recently vacated warm spot with my cup of tea and Snowy’s coveted remote, I marvelled at the brilliance of introducing myself as tired and headachy. Snowy never stood a chance!

As I awoke this morning after a full night’s uninterrupted sleep, I felt fabulous. So fabulous, I took a long stretch, turned over and snoozed for another hour. As I now consider myself the whole Domestic Package due to my incorporating ironing Accountant’s shirts and preparing a wholesome packed lunch for him each day into my repertoire of voluntary household services, I decided it was time I submitted a Holiday Request Form. After careful review, I approved the request and gave myself the rest of the morning off to enjoy Bob’s bum.

Accountant has just squinted over and, catching sight of Robert's photo above, asked if it was him. An easy mistake, Sweetheart, what with the uncanny resemblance and all.