I Never Beg! (much)

Right, time to explain about my rather long absence. Well, yes, there was the problem of school holidays but also I'm afraid I got into a rather sticky situation which resulted in my being arrested and detained under the watchful eye of the authorities in one of HRH's less glamorous institutions. (And I'm not talking about Balmoral Castle - although I've heard that the tartan cushions and throws are looking a bit threadbare these days.) Hmm, anyway being incarcerated is not good for my reputation as a Housewife Extraordinaire. But the sad fact Readers is... that I was caught begging. Yes, begging.

And before anyone suggests it - I was not dribbling at Thornton's sweet counter and pleading for the last hazelnut praline. ( In emergency "Last Chocolate in Box" scenarios I just pull out my epilator and threaten the opposition with some ruthless defuzzing. If, however, my opponent is bald I produce my Spit "n" Shine cloth which usually has an immediate withdrawal effect - especially if I make a really big snorting sound.)

Well anyway, begging is not something I do often. In fact, I never do it. Yep, Mr T is extraordinarily lucky as I never, ever, beg or demand those little things that many ladies do - pampering, designer fashions, exotic holidays etc etc. Okay- that probably was a big mistake because now he thinks he can get away with giving me a foot spa for my birthday instead of a weekend at Champneys. Still, we all learn from our mistakes - and if I get a second chance and bag myself a rich sugar daddy I'm gonna demand my own chef - sod the haircuts and manicures - I just someone else to waste their life in the kitchen! Oh, and I'll also have a swimming pool - with my own attendant. ( Ho, ho.) Anyway - So I'm an easy to please kind of girl and never beg.

However...... during the recent holidays something quite out of the ordinary happened. Suddenly, out of the blue, I found myself doing something I'd never done before and caught up in an almost unbelievable situation......

....I was leisurely strolling along, when I saw him out of  the corner of my eye. My heart skipped a beat; I took a second look. No, it wasn't Pierce Brosnan but he had a similar physique - athletic, muscular but without too much brawn, and much, much younger. About 35 and what you would call pretty damn "hot".

So I sidled up to him (discreetly ladies of course - well as discreet as one can be with three carrier bags, an umbrella and two small children in tow.) And wow - was he fabuloussssssss! I took one look at his smooth complexion, the dark brown eyes like molten chocolate, the sexy full lips and I was smitten. The man was a God! Sheer manly beauty - poor Mrs T was completely, utterly, overwhelmed. I fell to my knees, the dribble starting to accumulate in the corner of my mouth and found myself pleading and begging for his attention;

"Oh please, please take me home with you! I will do anything, anything for you (except washing, ironing, cooking and vacuuming); I will be your personal slave!"

But Readers, as I looked up into his gorgeous eyes, not a trace of emotion crossed his flawless face. In desperation, I grabbed the cuff of his trousers....

" Ohhhhh please, please let me be yours! Here let me shine your shoes! You are an Adonis, please, please I beg of you- marry me!" ( Okay - so I hadn't thought it through - getting a quick divorce could be a problem - but hey he wasn't to know.)

Now at this point Readers, as the handsome hunk was still ignoring me - I'm ashamed to admit that I burst into copious tears. There was even some wailing - but I don't want you folks to think that I did not act with some dignity; I absolutely did not break wind at any time.

Anyway, as I was weeping and begging for my Adonis to take me (home) a crowd began to gather...but I'm afraid I just could not stop begging Readers; I was in complete awe of his perfect, godly beauty! I didn't care if everyone saw me on my knees, all I could think of was this gorgeous man. Then, just as was wrapping myself around his left leg, I heard a cough behind me.....

" Excuse me Madam. You do realise that's a mannequin?"

At which point I broke into even more sobbing...

"Nooooooooooo!!!!! It can't be true! My Love, my love..tell me it is not so!"

This was when the security guards arrived and dragged me out of  Harrods' menswear  window display. I'm embarrassed to say - a bit of a scuffle broke out and I was arrested for disorderly conduct and shoplifting a pair of Calvin Klein underpants.

So there you have it; the reason why I was away so long. Another sorry tale in the life of Mrs T, Housewife Extraordinaire.

Anyway, I'll be back soon with some political tales. Which may have absolutely no foundations in fact. Excellent - I like to emulate the politicians as much as possible.