Lo, she is a terrible Goddess has just gone to the hairdressers. I’ve got two hours to re-think the various strategies I’ve tried using over 45 years of too much bliss of how to react on her return.
I’ve tried giving an honest opinion. I’ve tried giving no opinion. I’ve tried giving someone else’s opinion. I’ve pretended I’ve been possessed and only spoken in Swahili. I’ve fainted. I’ve wrapped my hand in a bandage, covered it in tomato sauce and rushed out on her return shouting “Gotta go to A & E!!!†only to be collared to give my opinion when I tried to sneak in two hours later.
Perhaps I ought to get  my inspiration from Downton Abbey.  “You’ve done something jolly with your hair!†but I fear that that won’t cut the mustard.
If anyone can offer some sound advice I’d be very grateful. Whilst I’m waiting for a helpful reply I’m going into a coma.
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