Me: Hey babe. What do you mean? Wow?
Husband: Just. What I said. Wow.
Me: And you're referring to?
Husband: I'm not even going there.
Me: Um. Alrighty then.
Husband: Well, I would. But I know it would end in tears.
Me: Okay. Stop being weird. Just tell me. What was the "wow" about?
Husband: Thing is, if we discuss it, you'll write about it.
Me: No I won't.
Husband: Promise? Cross your heart and hope to die? Really, Claud. I mean it. I can't have the people at the office take the piss out of me again. Plus everyone calls me and laughs and I just can't take it. It makes me feel, you know, stupid.
Me: Oh my God. This is the longest conversation we've ever had. You're doing my head in. Can we go back to whatever you were going to say...
Husband: I thought you liked chatting.
Me: This isn't chatting. This is moronic.
Husband: I kind of like it when you get wound-up.
Me: You think this is sexy? You irritating me? This is romantic in your world?
Husband: It's banter.
Me: This, just so we're clear, isn't banter. It's not clever enough to be banter.
Husband: Neville Chamberlain.
Me: Excuse me?
Husband: Just took the banter up a level. Threw in some history. Bet you like that, don't you?
Me: Are you trying to make me have an affair?
Husband: Could it be with a Swedish girl?
Me: I'm taking my make-up off.
Husband: Who wears bunches?
Me: And then I'm going to kill you.
Husband: OK. OK. Come back. But don't write about it.
Me: I think I've chewed my fingers off so there's no more writing.
Husband: So, the "wow".
Me: Exactly. I walked into the room and you sat bolt upright and said "wow".
Husband: Right. Well, it was a shock.
Me: Me walking into the room? I live here you know.
Husband: No. Your. Um. Oh God. Here we go again.
Me: Seriously, you can tell me.
Husband: No. Sorry. I know I'm being slow. Your hair. Goddamit. Your hair. I know we talked about the fringe, and thing is, you look like a...
Me: I must be dreaming.
Husband: Claud, don't overreact.
Me: Really. Tell me. Am I being punished in some way? Did I make you a terrible supper? Do I pinch you while you're sleeping? What did I do?
Husband: Is it really so bad? To talk about your hair with your husband?
Me: Is that a real question? Are you fucking kidding me? Is it bad? It's up there with talking about my periods and us talking about your prowess in bed. With your mother.
Husband: Jeez. Bad.
Me: It's just weird is what it is. But hey, now we're on the topic, what do you think of my hair?
Husband: Well, it's certainly new.
Me: It's not a wig, if that's what you're getting at.
Husband: Great. There's an upside.
Me: You know you're a man, right? And you realise you don't make a living from selling hair conditioner?
Husband: Are you trying to make me feel small?
Me: I'm just making absolutely sure you know that there isn't a salon somewhere with your name on it.
Husband: We can't talk about your hair. It's fine. Let's pretend it never happened. Let's go to sleep.
Me: No way, Charles Worthington. If you've got something to say – spit it out.
Husband: Are you trying to look like you starred in Dallas?
Me: I think I'm going to be sick.
Husband: Oh God. Are you pregnant?
Me: No. Worse. My husband has an opinion about my hair.
Husband: Not just me.
Me: Come again?
Husband: There were texts.
Husband: People are worried you're taking this growing-out-your-fringe and playing with curlers thing a little too far. Like, you're not Barbie. You're 35.
Me: We can't have sex again.
Husband: You are pregnant.
Me: I think I need to breathe into a brown paper bag.
Me: You said that already.
Husband: Listen, I'm sure you know what you're doing.
Me: Just breathe and focus.
Husband: It's just that it's sort of extra curly.
Me: One. Two. Three. And exhale. One. Two. Three...
Husband: And I'm not sure you need those sparkly combs.
Me: I am at one with the world. I am peaceful...
Husband: You might want to think about just letting it dry naturally. That's all I'm saying.
Me: Nam Myoho Renge Kyo...
Husband: You're going to turn this into a column aren't you?
Me: Definitely.Reuse content