Reasons not to read magazines when you're in a silly mood
I read a list of 'top tips' in a health magazine today. This one amused me.
If you think you might suffer from a hot flush in bed at night, cool your pillow before you go to bed by putting it in the fridge.
What advice might you then need, however, should you put that into action and it backfires?
If your husband has rung the divorce lawyer having found his cans of ice-cold lager warming up on the kitchen surface while you use the fridge for your pillow, try Relate, the relationship counselling service.
But what if that goes wrong, too?
Should you find that the counsellor assigned to you at Relate is your husband's old flame/is drinking from a hip flask during consultations/breaks wind at five-minute intervals, find another way to heal your relationship, such as [another tip from the magazine], doing yoga together in the evenings.
But what if .....?
Should you find yourself both immobilised after doing yoga together in the evenings, wait until you hear the mail drop onto your doormat in the morning and yell, 'Hey, Postman! Get help! We're stuck in the lotus position!'
But what if ....?
If the postman turns out to be a postwoman, takes offence, and shouts back, 'I don't care if you're tangled up like Houdini in a strongbox, I'm not answering to an outdated gendered term of address,' you will need to find a different solution. Try banging on the dividing wall (perhaps with your head, if other limbs are unavailable) to alert a kind neighbour.
But what if ...?
Should the kind neighbour come round, let themselves in with your spare key and untangle you both, but then refuse your offered cup of tea saying, 'But I could murder a cold beer,' think before you answer. Don't say, 'Sorry, but the pillow is in the fridge, and the beers are warm.' Next time you tie yourself in knots with your legs pointing north and your elbows tucked under your armpits, you may find the neighbour refuses to answer your distress call.
And no one MAKES coffins that shape.
I apologise heartily for this silly blog post. I didn't know where it was going when I started, and it sort of got out of hand.
If you think you might suffer from a hot flush in bed at night, cool your pillow before you go to bed by putting it in the fridge.
What advice might you then need, however, should you put that into action and it backfires?
If your husband has rung the divorce lawyer having found his cans of ice-cold lager warming up on the kitchen surface while you use the fridge for your pillow, try Relate, the relationship counselling service.
But what if that goes wrong, too?
Should you find that the counsellor assigned to you at Relate is your husband's old flame/is drinking from a hip flask during consultations/breaks wind at five-minute intervals, find another way to heal your relationship, such as [another tip from the magazine], doing yoga together in the evenings.
But what if .....?
Should you find yourself both immobilised after doing yoga together in the evenings, wait until you hear the mail drop onto your doormat in the morning and yell, 'Hey, Postman! Get help! We're stuck in the lotus position!'
But what if ....?
If the postman turns out to be a postwoman, takes offence, and shouts back, 'I don't care if you're tangled up like Houdini in a strongbox, I'm not answering to an outdated gendered term of address,' you will need to find a different solution. Try banging on the dividing wall (perhaps with your head, if other limbs are unavailable) to alert a kind neighbour.
But what if ...?
Should the kind neighbour come round, let themselves in with your spare key and untangle you both, but then refuse your offered cup of tea saying, 'But I could murder a cold beer,' think before you answer. Don't say, 'Sorry, but the pillow is in the fridge, and the beers are warm.' Next time you tie yourself in knots with your legs pointing north and your elbows tucked under your armpits, you may find the neighbour refuses to answer your distress call.
And no one MAKES coffins that shape.
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| Roland didn't appreciate the 'you look a bit tied up at the moment' jokes one little bit. |
I apologise heartily for this silly blog post. I didn't know where it was going when I started, and it sort of got out of hand.
It WAS silly, but I LIKE silly!!
ReplyDeleteThis is why we get on!
DeleteOh no! That went terribly awry. Who knew that a life could be turned upside down in search of a cool pillow?
ReplyDeleteI just turn the pillow over, anyway, to find the cool side. Mind you, with a head on it as hot as Vesuvius, it doesn't stay cool for long ...
DeleteI'm always silly, and I never read magazines. I don't know what good it would do to put my pillow in the refrigerator because I might have a hot flash. What if I cool off the pillow at 10 p.m. and have the hot flash at 3 a.m.? The pillow will be warm by then. One night I asked Willy Dunne Wooters to move over in bed because I was having a hot flash. He thought I had accused him of something and almost went home. I had to shout, YOU GET BACK IN THIS BED RIGHT NOW. He obeyed better than Franklin does. Franklin refuses to sleep in the bed with me.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
The pillow idea is complete tosh. I guess magazines have to fill their advice columns with SOMEthing ...
DeleteI hate women's magazines that have recipes for high-calorie desserts followed by tips to lose weight.
DeleteGoing to bed with a cool pillow is totally useless if the hot flush doesn't happen until the pillow has warmed up again.
ReplyDeleteFar better to put a hot water bottle, filled with cold water obviously, into the freezer, then get it when you feel the hot flush coming on.
Yes, I think that would cure it ... but I can see other disaster scenarios as a result ... ('What do you mean, you're stuck fast to a hot water bottle? Okay, the ambulance will be along soon.')
DeleteForgot to mention we wrapped them in dishtowels, before placing into the kids beds. We did this every summer when it was too hot to sleep.
DeleteAh, now that could make all the difference! What a great idea.
DeleteHow on EARTH do you get to sleep if you have your head on a fridge-chilled pillow? Just askin'...
ReplyDeleteAlso, must have been an American magazine. The nation of the big fridge. It would be a major logistical exercise to get a pillow in my fridge.
Nope, a British magazine. And I'd love a big American-style fridge ... when I get my dream kitchen one day I'll have one. But not because I want to put a pillow in it.
DeleteI am an avid turn the pillow to the cool side fan and cold flannel on head. sometimes this winter while cooking a roast dinner, I've had to go and stand outside but I don' want to do this in the middle of the night
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine you'd be the first! That cool night air ... brilliant for when you're sweaty and as slippery as a greased eel.
DeleteI hope you carry on being silly. Always. That is why I'm your friend and an avid reader of your blog posts. How would we get through life without a good deal of silly? Cracking post.
ReplyDeleteI'll stay silly, then. Sensible is SO last year. Thanks for the comment!
Delete