Yesterday evening myself and the wife were idling in the sofa with laptop, iPhone and coal fire when an incident occured which I feel obliged to confess to you.
We have seperate sofas, you understand, as we have reached that level of maturity and sophistication in our marriage.
I was checking my ebay listings for that day on the iPhone and was particularly pleased with one I've just done for a camera. "I'm really pleased with the way that Camera listing has come up", I volunteered from the depths of my sofa.
Mrs Rine's response came almost immediately from the depths of her sofa. "Why do you have to spend so much time up your own arse?".
I confess I was somewhat taken aback. This was an unxpectedly forthright view from Mrs Rine who is normally far more tactful in her occasional critiques of my actions and attitudes. I stopped and thought for a minute. Was I really becoming too pleased with myself? I had taken some pretty stunning pictures for the listing and stuck in some fancy HTML with the description to make it stand out but was I right to show a sense of pride in this creative process or not?
My thought train continued and I began to wonder how often Mrs Rine declared pride in her own excellent activities. The answer was hardly every. I was becoming a bit too self-satisfied and smug. I need to draw a mental line, take a note and think before declaring how clever I am. It can't be an attractive trait.
"I was only talking about this one listing. Do you really think I'm becoming self obsessed?", I ventured somewhat meekly.
"What are you talking about?", she said.
"I was talking about your very recent criticism. I think the words 'time' and 'own arse' came into it".
"Hah!", she said. "I wasn't talking to you! I was talking to Mosely".