So, here's the thing! My wife decided to do a bust of me. Fame at last, I thought. Well, you do, don't you? She goes to pottery on a Monday nights, and thought she'd try something a bit more adventerous than a pot.
I had visions of something akin to a regal Caesar, maybe an intelligent-looking Albert Einstein, or a thoughtful Socrates.
The first week, she came home and said she'd been sticking paper on a stick. Of course, I was suitably impressed. Well, you have to be, don't you?
"Why?" I asked.
"Busts aren't solid, you know."
"Oh!" I said, fully convinced by her convincing argument.
So, this week she came home with a couple of digital photographs of her progress thus far. Normally, when she arrives home, I make my weary way to bed, but she said, "No, no, let me show you what I've done."
When she couldn't stop laughing I should have refused to look, of course, but well, you have to show support for the efforts of her indoors, don't you?
The trouble is, I think I'm psychologically damaged now! I mean, I know people's perceptions differ, but is that really how she sees me?
Anyway, I'm hoping that she'll finish torturing me soon.
In the meantime, I have to go, because the nurse is here with my tablets!
Hey! Have a nice day.
Hi, I'm Tim Ellis - I write a lot and I hope you enjoy what I write.