On Boxing Day, Clive looked thoughtfully at his wife as she was making breakfast.
"I was thinking..."
"You know you straightened your hair on Christmas Eve?"
"Could you sort of make that a regular thing? You know, straighten it every time you wash it?"
Mrs Beechcroft looked surprised.
"It would really suit you darling."
The toast popped out at that point and Mrs Beechcroft set about buttering it. She looked a bit worried.
"What's wrong darling?"
"Nothing, it's just a feeling of uneasiness. Are you sure I straightened my hair on Christmas Eve?"
"Of course I'm sure. Why do you ask?"
"It's just, I don't remember doing it."
"Oh come on, you're not going to start that again? Do you think I would tell you that you straightened your hair if you didn't?"
"Of course not" Mrs Beechcroft said quickly. "Don't be angry with me Clive. It's just that I'm sure I'd have remembered."
"Well the other day you bought the milk, then forgot you bought it and then tried to buy it again. I had to open the fridge and show you that you had bought it already."
As Mrs Beechcroft still looked uneasy, Clive made a suggestion.
"I tell you what, the next time you wash your hair..."
"Once you have dried it, come to me and I'll straighten it for you."
"Oh would you? That would be wonderful. I'm a bit scared to handle the straighteners to tell you the truth."
"Nothing to it darling, but I guess it's better I handle them than you."
Mrs Beechcroft put a plate piled high with buttered toast on the table and a pot of new strawberry jam.
"I'll get the coffee." Clive got up and went to deal with the coffee. "How were things at the office last week?"
From here the conversation became more work oriented as Mrs Beechcrft shared her concerns with her husband that her rapidly increasing absent mindedness would adversely affect her work.