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The caveman instinct

What is it with men and fire? My husband managed to squeeze in a trip to the shops (without me even knowing he had gone, I might add) and came home the proud owner of a barbecue. You may ask what is wrong with this? We live in Australia after all. Every family must own and frequently use a barbie. It is the law. Well I will tell you, in very simple terms what is wrong…. WE. ALREADY. HAVE. ONE. What’s more, the barbie we already own is a mere 18 months young. I have older fruit in the larder. Okay, maybe a don’t, but I’m pretty sure there must be some items in the freezer that I’ve forgotten about that have been in Chez Turner longer. Plus, it works perfectly. I mean, why wouldn’t it? It has barely lost it’s milk teeth. ¬†Apparently, so I am told, the other one is okay but just not good enough for a proper BBQ taste. It doesn’t cook the same indirect way ….. I should point out that my mind had wandered off by this stage so I can’t explain the technical jargon that was involved in the sales pitch. What was that? Oh yes, you are right, sales pitches normally occur pre-sale, but when your husband has spent in inordinate amount of money on something I am pretty sure I could have fashioned out of an empty oil barrel, some post-sales ‘talks’ take place. Quite frankly though, once he saw the flames, I noticed his little eyes glaze over and his mind wander off into a trance-like-state (I would liken this to myself in a Karen Millen store). It was then I realised, it is as innate for him to want to make fire, as it is for me to want to buy clothes and shoes. Case dismissed.

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