I had to let Ian know that sex was off the table tonight. He said that was OK, we could use the washing machine. Ha ha. Then I told him I had thrush. I don’t think he even knows what that is, as he asked me if it was in a cage, but when he found out it meant that he might have to spend that part of his evening strummin’ on the ol’ banjo, he said it was probably better for both of us if he didn’t come over. Apparently, my allure is so great he was worried he may not be able to control himself and ravish me anyway. Thanks a lot. We could have watched a movie together.
Still, I mustn’t get too elevated on my moral high horse, I suppose.