It was our anniversary last night.
A few choices were open to us. Meal out for two. Meal in with family. Meal out with family.
We went for the latter – a good thing because it meant that our central heating remained off for yet another evening. But I fear that today is the day. I’ve had a few warning signs already. Rubbing her upper arms vigorously and frantically and just recently, she has taken to wearing a sort of sleeveless ski jacket in the house.
The heating is coming and when it does, it will remain on until late April and maybe even, May.
This day that the heating comes back on is always grim. Arguably the worst day of the year. Signalling that summer is over and that only dark days lie ahead. Both in terms of rays from the sun and the marital arguments that will rage about thermostats.
Still it could be worse.
A mate of mine is in a marital wasteland. His wife insists on the heating being left on through the night and in their bedroom also – and because the bedroom becomes stuffy, she also has the window open for the fresh air.
This would be my living nightmare – being unable to sleep for the whirring of the gas meter – not to mention the heat.
Winter is coming. Men everywhere, prepare yourselves. Not with fleeces and thermal socks.
Prepare yourselves to acquiesce. To give in.
It’s the only way.
