President Obama hasn’t had a cigarette in six years.
On Monday he was overheard saying it was “because I’m scared of my wife”, a soundbite which led to headlines boring on about the most powerful man in the world still being afraid of his missus.
I prefer to think of it as proving that even the most powerful man in the world is no match for a woman, but that’s not the point. Even in the most trusting, honest marriage, there are things you’re too frightened to tell your partner because they’d go mental.
If you asked my husband, he’d say he knows everything about me. In reality, he’s privy to about 39%.
Here are just a few things he has absolutely no idea of:
How often I buy clothes
To clarify: we’re talking about a man who thinks more than two pairs of pants is Russian oligarch-esque extravagance. He’ll only buy something new when the old one is literally unwearable, and he will have been wearing it right up to that point. And the new thing he’ll buy will be in a sale, or not at all.
This is how much he cares about fashion: once I told him his outfit made him look like Jeremy Clarkson and he went off and Googled him, came back and said he was fine with that.
The good news is he genuinely believes me when I tell him I’ve had this old thing for ages. Lately I’ve been living on the edge by adding risky details like: “I was wearing it when you proposed to me!”
And he’ll narrow his eyes, look me up and down, and pretend to be mulling over my outfits, but really be thinking about Arsenal.
How big my feet really are
I’m not tall, and my feet are mortifyingly out of proportion.
This – and being in complete denial about my real size – is why I always squeeze into shoes that are far too small. The alternative is looking like a hockey stick.
When my husband asks why my feet are so battered and squished, I tell him it’s from years of noble, dedicated ballet practice as a child.
I am yet to be struck down by God, but it’s surely only a matter of time.
What I really eat
I’ve never eaten a more balanced, healthy diet than since I got married, a.k.a. he does all the cooking.
When he comes home after a night out and asks what I foraged in his absence, I’m vague, or make noises about salad, if pushed.
In reality, I have a corned beef stash he knows nothing about, I’m addicted to plastic cheese strings and I secretly think almost all microwave meals for one are delicious.
That I had botox
One of the things Mr H and I agree on is that Botox is awful. People who have had it look shiny, hard and older instead of younger, because it’s always obvious they’ve had Something Done. We’re against it as a household (the kittens would never even consider it.)
Apart from I’ve had it.
Just once, ages ago – super stupidly – for our wedding. No one noticed on the day somehow, but in the photos it looks like my bloke married Sharon Osbourne.
I’d never have it again though, so in a way, I’ve been completely honest.
When questioned about these offences this evening (yikes!), my planned line of defence is that everyone does it.
If you had a story that backed this up, you could email me at the address above, and I’ll print the best ones next week.
Or you could not bother, and then have to live the rest of your life knowing my divorce is all your fault. Up to you.
Brummie grannies had me in stitches
I was in Birmingham last weekend, and met a gaggle of grannies who run a stall selling brilliant, imaginative stuff they’ve knitted.
We got chatting, and I told one of them that my local knitting circle was called Stitch And Bitch.
As soon as the B word was out of my mouth, I regretted it.
But instead of fainting with shock, the surely 80-year-old didn’t even flinch, immediately retorting – in a heavy Brummie accent – “Ours is called Stitches And Ho’s.”
Pollyometer - from cool to fool (in descending order)
The new definitions of Twerk.
1. To dance in a sexually provocative manner involving thrusting hip movements and a low, squatting stance.
2. Where people in Yorkshire go Monday to Friday, 9am-5pm.
Katherine Kelly said this week: “I simply won’t talk about what I eat, how I stay thin or diet tricks. I cannot bear reading about women and their weight – I’m so bored of it. There’s much more to life than how somebody looks.”
All other female celebs: take note.
People being prosecuted for spitting in the street. I’ve been campaigning for ranting about this for years ever.
Next, please can we arrest anyone who doesn’t say thanks when you stop to let them over a pedestrian crossing? Animals.
Twitterhoea! Poor Doctor Christian Jessen has got a nasty, itchy rash all over his love life. I know this not because I’m his close but indiscreet confidante, but because he tweeted all about it.
“God I feel low. Why are relationships so hard? And so painful. I just want things back to normal,” he revealed to 269,195 strangers, many of whom are probably terrifying.
With all due respect and sympathy, Doc, stop it. Otherwise you’re no better than Liz Hurley, and nothing you’re going through could be worse than that.
Beyonce having long hair again already. Disappointingly predictable… and being disappointed with Beyonce is like being disappointed with life. Most depressing weave ever.
Twerking. There are official definitions, and Princess Eugenie’s doing it, aka it’s over.
Can't take my eyes off you
Gogglebox is a TV show where you watch people watching TV shows.
On paper, it sounds incredibly tedious. On telly, it’s magic.
The exchanges between the viewers are funnier than the dialogue in 98% of British sitcoms, as is the timing with which they are delivered.
Against the backdrop of a party political broadcast, Nick Clegg was discussed, dismissed and destroyed in six sentences.
A lengthy focus group couldn’t have explained X Factor’s problems, or positives, more succinctly. And then Downton Abbey came on, and everyone cried.
Gogglebox is hilarious, cosy, poignant and heart-warming.
And if you won’t take my word for it, Caroline Aherne has come out of self-imposed semi-retirement to do the voice-over – so take hers.
Grumpy old man of the week
“BTW I hate cards sent by internet. I don’t even open them. If you want to send me a card write on one, put it in an envelope, post it etc.” - Duncan Bannatyne
Challenge of the week
“I can scratch the back of my head with my elbow. Try it. It’s not as easy as it sounds.” - Cate Blanchett
Earth-shattering celebrity bombshell of the week
“So.tired.woah.” - Jessie J
Wild man of rock of the week
“Love u granny and grampa.” - Justin Bieber
Cat of the Week
NAME: georgethekat
APPEARANCE: Ever changing
SPECIAL SKILLS: Instagram star George dresses up, either topically or iconically, but always amazingly.
He has turned his paw to an Ewok, Batman and Snooki from Jersey Shore.
Now, to mark the final episode of Breaking Bad – which I’m sad about in my heart, but relieved about in my nerves – here he is as Walter White.
Two things I’m obsessed with have never been combined so perfectly.
If your feline should be Cat Of The Week, email a photo and details to the address at the top of the page.
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