The Problems of Domesticity

There she stood - in all her naked glory – holding the cauliflower in a rather provocative manner.

Of course, by then, I was more than a little eager for the delights of vegetable curry, but that had to be put on hold for a while, while we did the sex thing. So, afterwards, as you well know, there was little else the cauliflower was good for.

Apart from that, obviously.

It is strange how, just because of the mere fact of someone's nudity or otherwise provocative behaviour can call a halt – brief or otherwise – to many worthwhile domestic activities, like putting all the tinned goods in the cupboard into alphabetical order, or rearranging the domestic cleaning items into a more aesthetically pleasing manner.

Maybe it is Western society's obsession with sex in all its manifest forms, or maybe it is just that naked dance she does with the dusters and a tin of Pledge, but whatever it is it seems that the housework is often neglected.

It also tends to make any sudden unexpected visitors somewhat nervous when they see us eventually come to the door, hastily-donned clothing in disarray and sweating profusely whilst claiming we were only engaged in a spot of light housework.

Luckily, none of them has accidentally come across the post-coital remains of the cauliflower, hastily secreted behind the sofa at the sound of the doorbell, otherwise there would be much talk in the neighbourhood.